


changeup

by Gee_Writes



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Anxiety, Baseball, High School, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, POV Alternating, Slow Build, Team Feels, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-07 17:25:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10365759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gee_Writes/pseuds/Gee_Writes
Summary: His summer ended with a snap.[An AU where Mihashi leaves Mihoshi under much worse circumstances, threatening his love for baseball.]





	

**Author's Note:**

> a pitch meant to look like a fastball - but with less velocity.

His summer ended with a snap.

 

The sickening crunch of bone beneath the metal bat, pain shooting up his arm as he falls to the ground, wounded cry. He can see the sweat dripping down Hatake-san's face, breathing heavy, but face pale as realization seems to dawn at what he's done. Cicadas cry loudly in the summer afternoon, ringing in his ears as the shock breaks him from his daze, tears welling up as he can't seem to catch his breath. The other teen stepping back slowly, breaking into a run once he gets out of the stillness of the scene – the aftermath of an unplanned attack.

 

He wants to stand from where he's crumpled, dirt marks on the white fabric of his uniform, but he can't seem to move. Heaving chest, in and out, not able to move the fingers in his battered arm without fire burning his every nerve. Another half-sob of pain clogging his throat.

 

They had lost another game today, the third of the summer season; another game ending with the sixth inning. His slow pitches hit by the opposition easily; dozens of runs racked up every inning, the other team heckling and cheering him on, each pitch securing at least one more run. Their side of the stands empty, feeling the glares of his teammates from the outfield, Hatake's frustrated scowl from the catcher's spot, no signs for him.

 

He could understand why Hatake had done it, really; he deserved it, Mihashi thought.

 

He didn't deserve to play, didn't deserve that number one on his back. Now Kano could play pitcher liked it should have always been; like Mihoshi deserved as a team. Ren wasn't meant to play baseball; he was only ever going to be a burden.

 

Kano on the mound, winning games with everyone. Stomach turning at the thought, or maybe that was the pain catching up to his system, dry heaving as the tears stream. Sun beating down, school quiet aside from the incessant cicadas. No one is looking for him, more alone than ever. Staggering to his feet, one arm hanging limply by his side, trying not to shift the break too much.

 

He wasn't meant to play baseball, but he had loved it. Had known for a while now that that had just been a selfish want – forcing the rest of the team to his whims – but still, he had stayed. Still, he had played.

 

He's almost to the school gates before anyone notices him, unsteady in his steps and finding it hard to see past his silent tears – wavering sobs quiet and reedy as he tries to keep them contained. Kano's voice calling from the changerooms, the unexpected greeting making him jump, forcing another sob as his arm jostles in his surprise. The other pitcher jogging up, smile dropping once he gets closer; horror and shock falling into place as he takes in the flowing tears, dark bruises already blooming against the battered skin, the way Ren gingerly pulls his broken arm to his side, trying to curl into himself.

 

“What happened? Are you OK?” scowling when Mihashi just nods that he's fine, trying to keep walking, dodging the question. “Don't give me that; you're seriously hurt.”

 

“I-I'm OK. D-d-d-don't worry, Kano-s-san.” Chin hitting his chest as he ducks his head, flinching when his friend grabs his shoulder on his unhurt side. Another wave of pain overtaking his senses, white spots burning at the back of his eyes. Falling to his knees, he can hear Kano running back towards the school. A cry of “don't move, I'll get a teacher” somewhere muffled in the back of his mind as all his senses scream, head pounding.

 

The last thing he remembers before he blacks out is the pain, unrelenting as the overhead sun, the end of his summer.

 

That he deserved this.

 

He should never have started playing baseball.

 

Should never have become a pitcher.

 

*

 

His classmates stare when he introduces himself, mumbled whispers from the back seats, voice stuttering when in sinks in that they're all focused on him. His teacher points to an empty seat in the front row, and eyes are still on his back as he sits. No matter who you were, someone transferring in the middle of the school year was weird – especially someone with a thick white cast on his arm like he did.

 

But he couldn't go back to Mihoshi. Couldn't bear to stay as a lingering guilt or responsibility for the baseball team, and all his teammates he had failed. Knew the members of his old team must hate him even more now – Ren wrecking their entire middle school experience of baseball.

 

His new teacher is outlining quadratic functions – lines of equations on the chalkboard confusing and tricky, but he copies them all down anyway. Writing notes as well as he can with his left hand, ignoring the quiet whispers around him from the other students. Head ducking as far down as he can; doesn't want to obscure anyone's view of the board, doesn't want to cause any trouble. The math lesson sounds almost as incomprehensible as a magic spell, but he tries to focus on it more so than the other teens around him and their curiosity.

 

He has to keep his grades up to so he can attend a local high school; couldn't go back to Gunma because of his own stupidity – back to Mihoshi because it's the only place who'd want an untalented, stupid, selfish kid like himself, and only because he's related to the principal. He was going to try his hardest to keep to himself here, try not to stand out and work towards his mother's alma mater. Somewhere where he could start fresh in a place where no-one hates him.

 

Somewhere without a baseball team.

 

***

 

The diamond is overrun by weeds and grass – the months of disuse allowing for the wildlife to overgrow the area. A couple other guys are milling around pulling weeds or raking the dirt even, coach shouting her orders enthusiastically. Sweat drips down his brow despite the cooler weather, and it's proof that he's gotten a little out of shape since the senior leagues ended.

 

There isn't enough time in the short end-of-school-year break for the few of them to really get the place cleaned up, but they can at least have the infield done before semester starts; hopefully enough to recruit some more members and build a proper team. He kneels a little closer to the ground, pulling a stubborn weed that's taken root in the dirt where the pitching mound should be. Eyes up once he's done, he can see the batter's box – can almost hear the cicadas of summer ringing in his ears.

 

Wonders what their pitcher's going to be like.

 

***

 

At first, Ren hadn't noticed it; the grassy field, fenced off from its surrounds, just past the running track. He'd been too preoccupied with the exams and making sure he would be able to attend Nishiura instead of Mihoshi's associated high school. But that first day, with the calls of dozens of clubs and associations trying to recruit the new first years, he had caught a glimpse in his peripheral of a diamond – white and fresh and a perfect new mound in the middle – and his stomach drops; heart pounding and eyes unable to look away once he'd noticed it. And before he'd even realized, he's beside the fence – fingers hooked, pulling him closer.

 

The smell of dirt is fresh – eyes closed, deep breath – and he nearly jumps out of his skin when he hears someone call out to him.

 

“Are you looking to join the baseball team?” Another boy around his age, brown hair bedraggled even on this first day of school. “We need players, so you'd definitely be welcome.”

 

Mihashi can't seem to get his mouth to work right, tearing up as he tries to shake his head 'no'; stuttering breath as he tries to keep himself from hyperventilating, one hand reflexively moving to his elbow, drawing his arms close, head down – more tears, more shaking of his head. Quickly turning, sprinting as quickly as he can from the other boy.

 

He might be shouting something to him, concerned, but Ren can't hear anything over the pounding of his heart – so stupid to have been drawn in like that. He doesn't want to play again, probably couldn't even if he wanted to, and he's just tormenting himself doing this.

 

It's only the first day – hasn't even reached his classroom yet – and it's already looking to be a bad one. Chin ducking down, eyes squeezed shut, running past all the various recruiters and clubs out the front of the entry, and doesn't stop until he's changing to indoor shoes – eyes to the floor, ducking into a bathroom once he sees one.

 

His eyes are red and teary in his reflection, wiping them with his forearm as he continues to sniffle. Breathing slowly evening out as he keeps watching himself in the mirror; getting flustered when someone else comes in to use the bathroom, glancing to Ren as he passes by. Faucet running as the brunet splashes his face – finally calming down, but acutely aware of the other person in the bathroom. Drying his hands under the dryer, leaving as quietly and unobtrusively as he can.

 

His classroom is right at the end of the hall – 1-9 hanging above the door and several students chatting. Bowing and blushing as they give him some room to pass by, jumping again when some of his new classmates introduce themselves – hand on his desk, two boys and a girl looking to him with smiles and a casual atmosphere. Smile curving pointed as he looks to them – blushing under the attention, blinking to the ground as he thinks of what to say – startled into a squawk when he's interrupted by the bell.

 

Their homeroom teacher calls them to attention and everyone introduces themselves – chair squeaking as Mihashi stands, looking down like the ugly linoleum is the most interesting thing in the room.

 

“Mi-Mihashi Ren. Toro Junior High School. I, uh, hope we um – I hope. E-everyone gets along,” bowing low and blushing as his voice cracks; sitting down in a rush, flustered. Scattered clapping from around the room, the next student follows.

 

*

 

He hasn't really talked to anyone so far this week, but that's alright. He didn't expect to make friends right away anyway.

 

Class clean-up is pretty easy with everyone working on it together this afternoon, and Ren's enjoying the view from their classroom. He's in charge of closing the windows and blinds, along with a short girl in glasses. They're on the first floor, but the hill means that the view is still quite expansive. Closing the last window he can catch just a glimpse of the sports grounds – the tall fences of the baseball field. Sighing a little at his own predictability, he audibly squawks in surprise when one of his classmates claps him on the shoulder.

 

“What a coincidence we're in the same class, I've been wanting to talk to you,” the other boy smiling casually, “sorry if I scared you off before.”

 

It's the boy from the baseball field – the one who had told Mihashi that they needed team members. Who had invited him to join, if he'd wanted.

 

Heart pounding, he isn't afraid; smiles a little at him, even if he can't quite make proper eye-contact.

 

“I-it's OK. Um, I just, um. I didn't. Baseball?”

 

It's getting harder for his thoughts to stay unjumbled at that word, but another boy from across the room seems to have overheard them. Swinging one arm around Ren's neck, he's slightly shorter and all smiles, chattering like he was a part of the conversation the whole time. Perfectly understanding Ren's haphazard sentence and answering the question in it.

 

“Up until last year it was just a softball team – but this year the school got a new coach who is really into hardball, so we're building the team from scratch,” Ren focused on the way the boy beside him moves his free hand as he talks. “It's looking like it's going to end up being a bunch of first-years.”

 

Nodding his understanding, Ren's trying to remember introductions from Monday – whether he knew these other boys' names, or if he'd been so preoccupied with not messing up that he'd missed them. Something must have shown on his face because the first one seems to pick up on it.

 

“Oh, sorry, I didn't even introduce myself – I'm Izumi Kousuke.”

 

“Tajima Yuuichirou. Mihashi Ren, am I right?”

 

Ren can't help himself, mouth twitching into a wider smile as he realizes his classmate remembered him from their first-day introductions, nodding more furiously than before. “N-nice to meet you, Izumi-san, Tajima-san.” His body being rocked by the energetic movement of Tajima.

 

“What are you boys doing over there – haven't you finished with the windows yet?” Stern girl in glasses calling from the chalkboard, Ren blurting apologies as Izumi scratches his neck conciliatorily, rolling his eyes once she turned around.

 

Hazel eyes wandering to the baseball field one last time before drawing the curtains closed, another small sigh as the view is gone.

 

“You seem to like baseball a lot – are you sure you don't want to join the team?”

 

“Ah, n-no. I can't. Baseball; you don't want me.”

 

“There're already a couple guys who haven't played much, or at all if that's what you're worried about; how about you just come down to the field and meet everyone?”

 

He can't quite get himself to disagree, doesn't want to disappoint his new (maybe) friends, so Ren just bites his cheek and lets himself be dragged away.

 

It was going to be a bad day again today.

 

*

 

The coach seems overly enthusiastic, enough to start Mihashi jittering alongside the other boys who seemed a little experienced in her behavior already.

 

Everyone had called their greetings between various stages of warm-up. Ren had just stayed where he was, hoping, praying, that no one would ask about him; unsure how he's going to slip away from this situation.

 

“What position are you?” Another boy, taller, direct with his question. And all of a sudden, everyone seems to be looking at Mihashi.

 

“O-oh, no. No, no-not me,” a stuttering disagreement not nearly enough to fully convey how wrong this is; how he shouldn't be here, for all their sake's.

 

“We really need teammates.”

 

“We still have lots of positions open.”

 

“Have you played before? You're not the only one if you haven't either.”

 

“What's your throwing arm like? We still need a pitcher or a second baseman.”

 

Voices mixing and mingling into a warbled sound he can't, doesn't want to hear; drowning his thoughts out, too many cicadas, too hot. Can't get his disagreement past the lump in his throat, isn't able to clearly say 'no' amongst all the questions and excited atmosphere of the people surrounding him. Can't seem to properly breathe anymore.

 

He's drowning, helpless, unable to struggle against it. Arm aching slightly with the memories of last summer; of tears he hadn't cried afterward, because he didn't deserve to. Feels them welling up here, inappropriate, an awful first impression. Closes his eyes as a last-ditch attempt to keep them at bay. Breathing ragged, hard in his lungs, wishing he'd stopped looking at the distant field through the window. Stopped himself getting entangled like this.

 

“It would be nice to have another manager.”

 

That once sentence seems to break everyone out of their questions, the half-circle of teenage boys breaking to allow a girl he hadn't seen before through – short and smiling, Ren can feel himself blinking back at her once he manages to get his eyes open, just as surprised at her statement as the rest of the boys.

 

“I mean, if you don't want to play, that is.”

 

It's the sweet call of his salvation, it seems; her words all that's needed to change his luck – to free him from the corner he had been backed into. The sweltering memories of summer heat disappearing into the cool breezes of April he hadn't noticed before. And actually, being a manager didn't sound too bad. He wouldn't have to actually play, and this way, he could help the team without ruining everything. The throbbing headache of overwhelming tears easing a little as he starts to catch his breath – fear no longer completely choking.

 

And if he was being totally honest with himself, even now he couldn't remove baseball from his life – even if it was a masochistic self-infliction of his own nightmares, painful memories replaying in his mind sharp and bright even months later. But maybe this way he'd be able to see baseball from the outside – the pressure and his failures falling into the past, where this new team would never need to know about them. Feel that excited adrenaline he used to have in the pit of his stomach; butterflies replacing the rocks that had formed there in middle school.

 

And maybe making a friend or two, too.

 

“I-I'll um, I'll maybe. OK.”

 

***

 

There aren't really enough guys to form a proper team – no reserve players in any case – and the fact that they've gotten some major players from the middle school circuits doesn't really make up for the slack caused by their lack of upperclassmen. They don't train like they're actually going to compete this year; either holding out for a rare new member who might fill out the team, or waiting until next year before recruiting underclassmen.

 

Even so, he doesn't dislike the group they've come up with so far; they're all good guys for the most part and seem to be working well together under Coach Momoe's instruction. He's not sure the hodge-podge instruction of a female softball player and a math teacher is really going to work in the long run – but so far so good, so Takaya can't really complain.

 

In fact, all up, his biggest gripe would be their lack of proper pitcher.

 

Despite being both their team captain and most promising pitcher, Hanai really didn't have much in the way of pitching styles. Oki was a little better, more experienced, but his lack of confidence would never get them through an entire game. Abe had hoped he'd meet a great pitcher in high school – taken the risk to attend a no-name school for the chance of avoiding one with an inflated ego like Haruna, but now it seemed he'd have to develop one to suit his catching style. Well, maybe this would be better anyway. He could have a pitcher who actually followed his instructions.

 

They've been practicing batting – Hanai on the mound, Abe in his usual spot behind the batter – but the afternoon has wound to a close. Teens dotted around the field picking up balls, Abe unclasping his gear to put into the dugout before heading out to help. Sighing as he stretches his back a little, dirt sticking to the slight sheen of sweat as he rubs at his face.

 

The other end of the dugout has both managers filling paper cups with sports drink and water. He's known Shino'oka since middle school; one of the only people he knows in this team of strangers. She's always been good at keeping organized, so it doesn't surprise Abe that that extends to her role as their female manager; and their male manager, Mihashi, is a bit jittery, but mostly reliable. Small smile as Shino'oka chatters to him about what's left to be done for the day.

 

The rest of the team seem done with the field cleanup and are heading back by the time he turns back to help; realizing all at once that he'd somehow gotten preoccupied with staring at the managers for far longer than reasonable. Mentally shaking off that odd anomaly, he just shrugs at Sakaeguchi when he raises his eyebrow at him in question.

 

Passing out the drinks, Takuya takes the closest one from Mihashi, and can't help but sigh at the way he jumps from him – eyes blinking rapidly, but never looking at him; instead trained to the ground. He hasn't really ever spoken to Mihashi, but every time he tries to the other retreats nervously – Takaya isn't sure whether he's actually afraid of him, or if it's just the other boy's personality; he couldn't tell.

 

“Thanks,” nodding his head towards the cup, trying his best at a smile. Middle school friends had told him once that he looked intimidating more than anything when he smiled, but that really wasn't his problem. It still hurt a little though when the male manager flinched away before wordlessly bowing back, though.

 

So it took him aback when he could see just the ghost of a smile back – a fraction of the size Mihashi had given to Shino'oka before – but just for him. Afternoon oranging out to evening, the sugary sweetness of cut oranges and sports drink in the air.

 

And that was the first time he noticed Mihashi Ren made his time stop.

 

***

 

“Can I ask why you don't want to play?”

 

They're back in the clubroom they use for team meetings recording hitting data for the next team they have a practice game against. It's not quite late enough that he's missing dinner yet, but he has a feeling that Shino'oka won't notice either way unless he mentions it. As soon as he had wanted to, though, she had asked the question that a couple of the guys from the team had already tried getting an answer to. He didn't really know why they wanted him so badly, but avoidance and diversion had worked so far; the girl sitting across the desk from him was a different matter, though.

 

She was smarter than Mihashi, he knew, and a flimsy excuse wouldn't work on her; she had phrased it like a question, a request, but he knew it wasn't really. When she had saved him from actually having to join the team proper, it was a miracle that no one had questioned once it had been suggested, but that was just part of her personality. Hardworking, friendly, a great person who had given him just the right amount of space.

 

Which is why he told her.

 

“I-I um, last year. Broke my arm,” eyes down to the desk. Hand moving to clutch at said arm, “because of baseball.”

 

The look of shock he gets at that feels kind of awkward. He hadn't really told the whole story, but from Shino'oka's face he's not sure he wants to – she looks so sad for him, and she shouldn't. Doesn't want to tell a new friend that he had deserved it.

 

She looks like she wants to say something, but just kind of lets the silence sit. Just softly pats his shoulder when they finish off their work. Exercise books filled with batting averages and pitch types, regular line-ups and types of batters packed into both their bags. He can't help the warmth that burns up from his toes at her understanding touch – a subtle support – and gives a thankful smile in return. She hadn't asked too much, hadn't pried the story out of him; and that more than anything was what he appreciated.

 

Outside was cool in the evening air; dark, but not scary. His mother should be back by now, but already knew that club work would make him late. Shino'oka leaves for the train, smiling sweetly as she waves, leaving Ren alone to walk the rest of the way home alone. This, unfortunately, leaving him to his own thoughts.

 

It had been a while since thinking specifically about his injury – of that sweltering summer's day – most of it blocked by a curtain of black pain; but talking about it, acknowledging it in this small way felt a little bit freeing. Letting out a little of the internalized fear that had welled up in his gut, his heart, since. Stopped making the idea of playing baseball twist his gut. Stopped being so afraid around Abe, the catcher, when he had done nothing but be nice to him – even if his tone didn't usually match the words.

 

And Nishiura was a new team, was a new place. Somewhere he could actually help the team, as a manager.

 

***

 

As expected of Shino'oka, her notes on the other teams are fantastic. She'd always been good at taking study notes, and her previous experience with softball was evident in the way things flowed as you read them – understanding the important points, the feel of other teams' game.

 

Wandering back to the clubroom after getting changed, he was just going to see if she and Mihashi had the collected stats on their upcoming opponents in the spring games. Best to be prepared, even if they weren't actually at a point where Takaya felt they could compete.

 

The afternoon was bleeding into early evening already; the days of spring not lasting long enough to see him home. Bag shucked over a shoulder, he can hear talking between the two managers; wondering how Shino'oka found it so easy to get people to open up. Sighing, knowing that was a skill he didn't have.

 

He didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just took him by surprise at how Mihashi sounded when he wasn't shaking like a leaf – calm and happy and squawking in embarrassment even. Couldn't help the little jump of shock when Shino'oka followed whatever he had been saying with “you should tell the guys! I'm sure they'd want to celebrate with you.”

 

What she was suggesting they should celebrate, he didn't know; just knew that Mihashi rejected that immediately – starting his sentence in overdrive as he tripped over his declination. Knew that this moment was when his body decided it was the perfect time to interrupt – one foot through the door before he realized it. He can feel his brain disagreeing with his body's actions immediately, but too late now, he was already in the room.

 

“Oh, Abe-kun! Good timing.” Shino'oka smiling at him, a stack of exercise books high on the desks. “I was telling Mihashi that he should have everyone over for his birthday. He's sixteen today.” The birthday boy in question timidly glancing between him and the desk from where he was seated. Brown eyes skittering away whenever Takaya tried to look at him.

 

It was strange why she would suggest the team, considering that none of them really knew Mihashi – aside from his classmates, Izumi and Tajima. At practices he mainly stuck to whatever job he was tasked with; didn't draw much attention to himself. He wasn't exactly the easiest person to get along with – his overt timidness frustrating.

 

Oh.

 

 _Oh_.

 

He felt like an idiot after realizing. The managers wouldn't have been having that conversation if there was anyone else Mihashi could invite. All his after-school time was probably spent helping the team too, not making him available to hang out after classes with anyone from his classes; the baseball team was probably the closest group Mihashi could call friends – hell, the baseball team was the closest people he could call friends too – but he's not sure any of the guys actually knew that much about Mihashi. For some reason, that really bothered him.

 

“Sure. Your place far, Mihashi?” Takaya trying to be as friendly as he can when he sees the small shake of the other's head, eyes wide. He can't tell if the other boy is terrified or not.

 

Seeing Izumi and Hanai walk across the grass towards the school gates, he shouts their names; both looking to him in confusion.

 

“You guys wanna head to Mihashi's after this?” Thumb pointing back over his shoulder, to the lit-up doorway of their clubroom.

 

Blinking between each other, it must have sounded crazy. Hell, even Takaya admit that it wasn't exactly normal that he was inviting everyone over on someone else's behalf, but well, it wasn't like Mihashi was going to do it himself. And he wasn't a bad guy; didn't deserve to spend a birthday alone.

 

“It's his birthday today,” he continues. Probably should have mentioned that first.

 

“Oh, uh...yeah. Yeah!” Izumi's voice gaining confidence as he thought about it. “I'll go ask the other guys; they're still changing, I think.”

 

And it was with that that the Nishiura baseball team was invited to the Mihashi residence.

 

***

 

The fact that so many people were following him home – laughing and chatting and overall just being friendly – was something Mihashi had never considered possible. There were people who had lots of friends, and then there was him.

 

Shino'oka walked beside him, talking animatedly with the catcher, Abe, as Tajima asked how much longer of a walk it would be – swinging his arms and bag back and forth as they pressed on. Stepping up to his house, it was dark aside from the porch lights – motion sensors always on at this time. Fishing his keys out of his bag, he trips over his 'I'm home', almost jumping at the chorus of 'thanks for having us' that steps into the genkan behind him.

 

“The living room is um. M-make yourself at home,” pulling open the sliding door to the adjoining room, “I'll go get some, um, drinks for everyone, if that's ok?”

 

Scuttling off to the kitchen, he tries to remember how many glasses he'll need. Whether or not he should go out and buy some tea for everyone. His heart is beating hard, and he can't tell how long he's been standing alone in the kitchen for. Jumping a little when the room's quiet breaks – Hanai asking about the bathroom.

 

He's still debating on whether to bring out the rice crackers or not when he can hear the front door open and close – a small gasp in surprise as his mother arrives home.

 

“I didn't realize we had guests, Ren,” calling as she walked to the kitchen as well. “You should have told me so I could pick up some food for everyone.” Cake box in hand, she just smiles at her son, unaware of how worried he was about presuming too much.

 

Blushingly, he introduces them all to his mother – she's happy and talkative to the group, but just as bright red as he feels. The cake is cut, and the food is served – an upbeat atmosphere that Mihashi can't remember feeling recently.

 

“I would never have imagined Ren getting so close with the baseball team,” his mother smiling to the group of boys. “Especially after what happened last year.” Mood quieting a bit – the older woman blinking at the change, looking to her son. Smile faltering a little when she sees him staring at the tatami, panic building in her own brown eyes. “W-well, you boys seem like a good group, so I'm not worried.” Laughing a little to try and shift the awkwardness setting in, eyes blinking down to the tatami in a match with Ren.

 

“O-oh, um. Can you maybe get us some more drinks, Mrs. Mihashi?” Hanai asks; attempting to rectify the falling moods of their hosts. Smiling once he sees her brighten a little – making her way to the kitchen.

 

“You and your Mom seem really similar, Mihashi.” Izumi finishing the last of his drink before trying to reach for some more cake. The rest of the boys nod to that, tentative smiles in place as they look to Ren in encouragement.

 

An agreed murmur moves across the group when someone says, “she's really nice – I wish my Mom was like that, all mine does is nag.”

 

“Your house is pretty big too; I have to share a room with my younger sister.”

 

All attempts on trying to return the party to how it had felt before; Ren couldn't help but smile sadly where he sat – acutely aware of how uncomfortable it had become. It wasn't until he felt a warm hand on his shoulder that he looked up – Shino'oka smiling back at him. She was one of the nicest people Ren had ever met, and the cute brunette reminded him a lot of the nurse who set his arm, way back in June of last year.

 

“So you did use to play baseball. What happened?” Tajima's voice loud; enough to make Mihashi jump and gulp. Unsure whether he wanted this group of relative strangers to know something that still gnawed at his stomach. That usually littered his dreams with the buzz of cicadas.

 

Finally looking around the room, Ren was shocked at the level of concern everyone seemed to be wearing. All worried about him. The team had only had a month and an impromptu training camp spent together, but the half-smiles and patience that filled the room were more than Ren could have said he'd ever gotten during middle school. The warm hope welling up in his stomach was enough to overcome the sickening swirl of nerves, and the smile he could feel starting didn't make him afraid like it usually did.

 

This team wasn't Mihoshi. This team didn't hate him.

 

***

 

“My arm – l-last year. Broke. Summer ended... Third game.” Familiar waver in his voice, with an extra layer of timidness weighing it down.

 

There's an unearthly quiet when Mihashi says that – the rest of the first years all understanding the implications. Three years of hard work, undone by one broken bone. Takaya can't even imagine the amount of frustration and guilt he'd have if it had been him – but on his middle school team and the senior leagues, at least, they had always had enough people to substitute if something happened. In a smaller team, and with Mihashi's personality, he can understand why he didn't want to play anymore. Can imagine how much pressure the responsibility had left on him at his middle school.

 

“That really sucks that an accident meant your team couldn't finish the season.” Tajima, still loud and unable to read the mood of the room. “You must've been a pretty important position to have such an impact.”

 

That's true. An outfielder or baseman could be replaced easily enough, but a more specialized position would be harder to find a substitute for on a smaller team – like a catcher, or...

 

Or a pitcher.

 

He almost doesn't want to even consider the possibility – that a pitcher had been a part of the team all along – but he can't help feeling a little excited. Sitting a little closer, hoping to hear what the skittish brunet says.

 

“O-oh, no. N-not good. I'm.” One hand to ruffle the hair just in front of his forehead – stilted, nervous laugh as brown eyes slide down to the side, avoiding. “Favouritism. My um, my Grandpa.” Takaya doesn't hear it, still mulling over the possibility in his head.

 

He can't help himself, can't stand the tension. He has to ask.

 

“Were you a pitcher?”

 

The way his whole body seizes up at that makes Takaya sure he's hit the nail right on the head; it's different from what he's used to when dealing with pitchers, but he can feel that there's definitely a bigger reason why Mihashi wouldn't want to pitch anymore. Maybe... maybe...

 

“Did your arm heal badly?” The bone not setting right, or maybe the onset of yips, or something else.

 

Brown eyes look a little shocked, and it seems like everyone in the room is looking at him now, too quiet and mostly shocked or annoyed. Shino'oka's sitting next to Mihashi looking exasperated at his bluntness, but Takaya doesn't really care. It's not a bad question, and he really feels for the guy if that's the case.

 

Probably not the best birthday conversation, though.

 

“I, um. I don't know.” Despite Takaya's idiotic tactlessness, Mihashi answers him honestly enough. Maybe just surprised he had asked at all. “I haven't. S-since I broke it.”

 

***

 

The pitching grid in his backyard still hung where it had been abandoned – something he had battled with throwing away for months, but ultimately, was too afraid to confront.

 

The team sits on the verandah, some still with drinks and replenished plates of cake; Ren feels sick just looking at it, and tries concentrating on the patchy flower beds around the yard in order to settle the bile at the back of his throat.

 

“Why is there 9 squares in that grid?”

 

“Um, a-accuracy? I, uh, I don't know. If I can now.” He can feel the sweat running down the back of his neck; too many eyes looking to him expectantly.

 

“Holy shit,” someone whispers. Ren's stomach is at his feet.

 

Abe-kun is standing next to him now, eyes open wide like he can't believe it.

 

“Are you saying you used to hit all those points, though, before the break?” Excitement laces his voice, and Ren can't understand why. Just nods to the ground in response. Doesn't think he hears right when the stockier boy follows it up with, “nine zones. That's amazing.”

 

The urge to correct him bubbles up before Ren can stop himself; both hands bunching at his hem, voice cracking with the force of his panicked words. “N-No, I, uh. My pitches, sl-slow. Even after three years.” Flinching back from a proffered ball that someone had retrieved from their bag. “I suck.”

 

Deep frown knits together on the other boy's face, like thunder clouds have rolled in. Ren feels the need to apologize rising in his throat.

 

“I don't know how anyone with 9 pitching zones can say they suck.” Baseball held out, mouth set in a downward slope. Looking immovable in his stance – not aggressive like Ren had expected, but determined enough that he knew there wasn't really much option to refuse his request. Fingers shaking as they gripped the baseball, he can feel the bump of the thread regular and familiar – how many hours had he spent with a baseball in his hand the past three years? Hours every night? More than that? He isn't freaking out as much as he expected to, but the pace of his breathing is still picking up, regardless.

 

Weighing the small ball in his hand, it seems heavier now that he's out of practice. Rolls his arm back in preparation.

 

“Top right” someone calls; it may be Abe-kun.

 

Winding his arm up, it's a movement that's ingrained in his muscle memory – no matter how desperately his mind had wanted to forget, his body resisted. The ball flies from his hand; moving to hit the top right square dead-center. It felt a little slower than before, but overall was just like his regular pitching. There's a low whistle, impressed, coming from the other boys watching, but before he has time to properly react to that, Abe-kun is pushing another ball in his hand. Saying “bottom left” as he quickly retreats to get a better vantage point.

 

He throws again. The way his shoulder moves is somewhat of a comfort, but he's still embarrassed to be doing this – everyone else is so talented and is probably judging him from where they sit. He just has to get through the next few pitches and then they can go back inside. He can say goodnight to the baseball team and then hyperventilate and panic once he gets to bed. It's OK, he can do this. Knees shaking a little, and his mind doesn't pick up that someone is calling his name right away.

 

“Hey, Mihashi? Mihashi!” Green eyes blinking close to his own. “Are you OK?”

 

He must have stopped, froze up. Abe-kun's hand is warm on his shoulder, heavy, and again, he's getting close. One hand in his, he's trying to use the calming technique that Shiga-sensei had taught them. Ren didn't know whether he wanted to smile or cry, but his stomach had stopped doing flips and he wasn't afraid of choking on his own tongue anymore.

 

“You were a little rusty, it looked, but that's some really impressive pitching control,” it sounded like the catcher was getting excited, but Ren couldn't understand why. Just blinked back owlishly. “I'd really like to try catching your pitches sometime during practice.”

 

And maybe their hand-holding wasn't the calming technique that he had first assumed, as Abe-kun was using their joined hands to pull Ren closer.

 

“They're slow. Easy to, um. For batters to hit.”

 

“With that kind of control, that doesn't matter.” Hanai responds to that with a 'hey!' Some of the other team members looking amongst themselves as they considered that. Abe continued, “pitching to me, no one will be able to hit your balls – just follow my signs.”

 

Something in those words gave the tiniest seed of hope to take root in his chest. He still wasn't confident about playing, pitching, again, but with Abe's eyes burning so bright right in front of him, he couldn't help getting swept up a little in the possibility.

 

Of maybe,

 

maybe,

 

being part of the team.

 

***

 

The following week, Takaya accompanies Mihashi to the local medical clinic to pick up some x-rays.

 

There had been a lot of discussion among the team, between Coach and Shiga-sensei, between the Mihashi's, about having Mihashi Ren joining the baseball team. It wasn't that he wasn't welcome, of course, but the fact of his recent injury meant that he'd have to get the OK from a doctor to start playing again. That, on top of Mihashi's quiet nervousness, meant that Takaya couldn't actually tell if the other boy was wanting to pitch again, or if he was just wanting to not let the team down now that they knew he was a potential for competing.

 

The doctor's office was white and drab, and the silence between the two teens stretched uncomfortably as they waited for the x-rays to be retrieved. Mihashi swung his legs from where he was sitting on the examination table, and the way he curled his shoulders inwards looked to the other boy as if he was trying to disappear into the smallest area he could manage.

 

The opening of the door brings Takaya back from the wordless stare he was in, watching the way short, fluffy hair bounced as Mihashi's head moved.

 

“According to the x-rays, it looks like your arm has healed almost perfectly – you were very lucky it was such a clean break,” the doctor opens with. He points out to Mihashi where the bone had fused back together, noting how the new thickness would mean that it would be stronger, less likely to snap again.

 

It was a short doctor's trip, but Mihashi still had to fill his family's insurance details at the front desk. Takaya walked out with the older man, the pitcher's folder of medical scans in one hand as they followed behind. Ren stuttered as he politely asked the receptionist what he needed to provide for the necessary forms, and Takaya finds a familiar humor in the scene.

 

“Oh, make sure to tell your friend to stay aware when doing practice swings. He got lucky this time, but those bats can do some real damage.”

 

The world slowed for a moment as Takaya takes those words into consideration, He hadn't realized that Mihashi's break had been caused by a baseball bat; had just assumed it was the result of a bad slide to base. But that... didn't make sense.

 

He'd seen Mihashi take enough spills in his time as manager to know that the other boy was flexible and could bounce back from nearly anything. If it had been a bat, then that means he'd probably been hit with considerable force – during practice swings, wandering out into the swinging path; but how close would they have had to been to hit his arm in that spot? Where was the other guy standing to get that area and for the pitcher not to notice? Things weren't adding up, and it made Takaya uneasy.

 

Mihashi calls out to him, small voice dying as it faded into the room. He jumped, tense when Takaya moves his stare to his face – analyzing his expression. He tries not to look scary, like Shino'oka had suggested, but wasn't sure if his reassuring smile had shifted to a scowl. Mihashi flinches either way.

 

By the time they're walking back towards the suburban area of town he's really bothered about the baseball bat thing. He kicks at a stone on the footpath and watches it skitter across the concrete. Frustrated, he can't seem to get his mind off the idea that something bigger happened than just an accident during practice – something that made Mihashi so unsure about himself, so afraid of joining the team even when he knew they were desperate for an experienced pitcher.

 

“It's a good thing you're arm healed so well; how did you break it again?” He's never been good with subtlety.

 

The fear that flickers across the other boy's face makes him wary about pushing much harder on the subject, but Takaya won't give up on the dream of having a responsive, talented pitcher to play with.

 

“M-my fault.” Takaya can feel his frustration building.

 

“The doctor said it was caused by a baseball bat. I was wondering if you got smacked during practice, but I dunno how you managed that considering where you broke it.” He's dangerously close to perhaps going too far in questioning, but he doesn't expect the other teen to say anything without some prompting, and he's not going to allow the subject to sit until he feels more assured with the answer. Mihashi bites his lip nervously, and it makes Takaya feel even more uneasy than before. There's something in the back of his mind that sounds suspiciously like Sekaeguchi telling him to let it go, but he can't possibly expect himself to do that if there's something he can do – he knows himself, and ignoring a problem he's aware of has never been his strong suit. Plus, Mihashi annoys him so much with how easily he slips into self-deprecation, regardless of the situation. He'd seen him take the blame for Tajima accidentally pushing him down the stairs last week in his rush to get to the grounds after class; bowing, flustered even as Izumi had smacked their cleanup upside the head.

 

Something must show on his face, because Mihashi seems to know instinctively that Takaya isn’t going to drop this. Hands shaking as they ball into fists, it surprises him on how different he looks – smaller, but burning with an emotion that means he can't draw his eyes away.

 

“It was – I. M-my fault.” Afternoon sun on his back as the smaller boy speaks. “No one else.”

 

There's a hard edge to his voice that he's never heard from the skittish teen before. He looks frustrated; the afternoon sun doing nothing to how cold that statement sits in the air. They're almost to the bus stop, and before he knows it, he's alone as Mihashi retreats to his home.

 

He isn't able to concentrate at all that night, homework is forgotten as he tries to parse what the other had meant – what emotions had been burning in those brown eyes – much to the chagrin of his history teacher the next day.

 

***

 

Pitching practice goes much better than he'd ever expected.

 

He still can't seem to control his breathing well when he steps onto the mound, but Abe-kun had told him to just aim for his mitt, so that's what he did. His pitches were as slow as ever, but the catcher seemed really happy with them even so. Even when Hanai and some of the rest of the team went to bat, their swings missed – the ball hitting the leather of the other boy's glove with a satisfying thud each time. Even the coach seemed surprised, happy. People were smiling and clapping him on the back after practice – praising his pitches like they deserved it. He can't help the building tears catching the corners of his eyes as he thinks about how long it's been since he's heard something positive about him playing baseball.

 

Of course, he realizes, that the real reason his pitches did so well was because of how talented Abe-kun is. Only the best catcher could make pitches as bad as his strike batters out.

 

He told him as such in the club room after practice, but the other had just waved off his praise, saying that it was a team effort – that his control was a really powerful weapon they could use. For someone with such a grumpy face normally, it was surprising how nice he looked when he smiled. It felt like the summer sun, and rather than stressing Ren out, he can feel himself hesitantly return it with his own.

 

There's serious talk about having him join the team, but he can't fully commit himself to that when he knows how disappointed everyone will be if they start losing games like Mihoshi. Coach Momoe finally manages to get him to try out as a trial member; enough that he'll join them for a few practice matches before either side makes a decision about him joining. Hopefully, enough that he'd be able to have fun on the mound for a little before the reality of his awfulness got him rejected from another team. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't afraid – from the very core of his being, Ren is scared of letting everyone down again – but his selfish hope of being on a nice team who liked him ultimately won the mental struggle.

 

With Abe, he could strike people out, he could pitch to someone's signs for him. There was more he could do now. Didn't want to end a game in the sixth inning again.

 

He practiced his nightly pitches until the sun was rising the next day, just in case.

 

***

 

Their first practice match was against a school called Mihoshi, and Takaya could see how quickly Mihashi seemed to still at the announcement after the day's practice. And when even Tajima noticed and asked what was wrong, he knew it wasn't just him over-analysing the movements of the pitcher.  Ever since the incident after the doctor’s office, he’d tried to get Mihashi to open up more about his break; watching every twitch, startle and shiver that ran through the other’s body.  It wasn’t a particularly fruitful endeavor, considering how nervous the pitcher was at most times, but it made him feel even worse when he realized that Takaya himself was the one Mihashi was most nervous around.

 

Momokan had said that Mihashi's family ties to the school were what had gotten them the game in the first place – a miracle at this time of year for such a distant school; especially with the lead-up to the summer season starting.

 

It was a surprising coincidence to hear that it was the timid teen's old school, but it did explain his jumpy behavior. For as little as Mihashi would tell them, it didn't seem like he had the best memories of the team; and compacted with the guilt of ending the summer season early the year before because of his broken arm, Takaya could understand the fear he was probably feeling. The nervousness of facing the team he felt so responsible for letting down.

 

It wasn't until he found him hyperventilating in the showers the day of the game did he realize how bad it was. The opposing team was expected to arrive in the next half-hour, and their pitcher was curled into a ball, sitting with his head on his knees – one arm clutching the other close to himself as he struggled between breathing and crying in the empty change room. Cursing lowly in concern, he finds himself crouched in front of him, fighting the urge to let his frustration over-bubble, voice low as he tries to get him to tell him what's wrong. Looking up, his eyes are wet, tears and snot covering his face as he hurriedly tries to wipe them away. Voice breaking as he speaks.

 

“A-Abe-kun!! Don– Don't w-worry... It's – I-I'm OK.”

 

The anger that fires up at that has him gritting his teeth and pulling the other boy into his arms – a makeshift hug that lets him feel the shake of Mihashi's frame, and how cold his body is. His own heart thudding unevenly as his mood darkens, one hand curled around the pitcher's.

 

“How can you say that when you're in here like this!” He didn't mean that to sound so harsh, but he's furious at the denial; the pitcher was quick to tears and nerves at the best of times, but never had Takaya seen him like this.

 

“Y-you. S-shirt!!” Mihashi trying to angle his face away from his shoulder. “D-dirty. I-It'll get – l-l-let go.”

 

“Why the **_fuck_ ** are you more concerned about that than yourself!?” The other boy stilling with the sting of his voice. “Do you actually think I care about _my shirt_ right now?” He's so utterly angry at the current situation he can't trust himself not to snap – he's already yelling in the way he's always struggled with. He had known there was something wrong with Mihashi that he wasn't sharing – and Takaya feels like the worst teammate for not being able to do anything but get angry. He should have been more persuasive that day at the doctor's office, more persistent. They were supposed to be partners in this battery, and yet, he didn't know anything about the other boy beyond his irritating self-deprecation.

 

“Tell me what's wrong.” The last word trailing with desperation that had burst in the room around them; all he feels now is tired, despite the tone, still feeling the slight shivers of the other boy in his arms.

 

“I'm afraid...” lower than a whisper, Takaya second-guesses himself as to whether or not Mihashi actually said anything. Squashes his immediate want to respond with 'obviously'. “I don't want to f-fail. L-like Mihoshi.”

 

There's a long stretch of time where no one says anything; Mihashi's breathing has evened out a little, but Takaya can feel the shoulder of his shirt wet with still-falling tears.

 

“You're not going to fail, Mihashi. Rely on me.” Not exactly how that was meant to sound, but he’s already said it.  Doesn't have time to second-guess himself.

 

Head nodding against his shoulder, Takaya can't really tell if what he's saying is having much effect, but the gasping, panicked inhales seem to have stopped.

 

“I-I-I'm sorry. So bad, A-Abe-kun. Abe-kun is a-amazing. Ca-catching.” The slight teen apologizing again, and again, and again over his perceived lack of skill.

 

It hurts to hear Mihashi.  Takaya knows better than anyone that it’s impossible to get him to stop once he’s in the bullpen or on the mound.  He can feel the callus of the other boy's fingers rough against his own where he has his hand; a small proof of the countless hours Mihashi must have put into pitching, even before joining the Nishiura team. That realization, along with the general mood of the room has the tears welling in his own eyes – unbidden and embarrassing as he tries to fight them back.

 

“You've been practicing really hard, Mihashi. You've put the effort in.” They've moved from the tenuous embrace from before, and Takaya can see how adamant the other boy's expression is in denying that.  Eyebrows crumpling over wet eyes, mouth opening and closing like the other boy can’t find the words he wants.

 

“N-No, normal. Hatake-san was never able to, uh. My pitches always hit, so he could never, um, never catch. I! – Still bad w-with practice. No improvement.”

 

It feels like trying to hold onto smoke, with how quickly Mihashi rejects any sort of positive feedback about his pitching. That the timid pitcher would think that, even with the evidence to the contrary so clear to Abe. He doesn't know what he can say to make the other boy feel better about himself, so just tries to fall back on honesty.

 

“I’m not him, Mihashi.”  Almost exasperated at how wide the pitcher’s eyes grow at that statement.  Mulling it over, he can’t help but throw some of his own ire on the catcher he’s never met.  “He must have given really shitty signs if he couldn't take advantage of your ball control,” tone unimpressed.

 

Brown eyes blink rapidly, gaze moving to the ground before meeting Takaya’s again.  “Haitake-san. He-he, d-didn’t.” Voice quiet, like he’s unsure whether he should be sharing that.

 

“...What?”

 

“No signs.”

 

“ **_What?_ ** ”

 

The brunet is shaking again now, as he starts to panic again. _Shit_ , is all Takaya can think; knowing Mihashi has assumed the worst as to why he was mad.

 

“The batter. Hi-hitting. Signs s-stopped.”

 

“So he just abandoned you on the mound?” Takaya can't believe what he's hearing. No wonder Mihashi had no confidence. No wonder he was so self-conscious. Cold heaviness curls in his own stomach – that abandonment all too familiar to him. Memories of Haruna walking off the mound, abandoning him, the battery, the entire team. Bitter memories of the Senior Leagues as he braved bruises and constant belittlement in order to be a better catcher for his pitcher. So much pain and punishment for something that ultimately ended with him realizing that he was the only one who was ever taking it seriously.

 

Mihashi was still shaking as he spoke; tears starting again, despite Takaya's best efforts, and honestly, he couldn't blame him – he had felt pretty much the same way, back then. Even now, he didn't really have any advice to give.

 

“W-Well! I – am a bad player. B-but. Favoritism.”

 

The emotions behind that sentence are the strongest Takaya's ever heard the other boy string together in their conversations; some of Mihashi's usual nerves disappearing into his current panic. The novelty of it is lost amongst the crash of emotions the catcher feels rising up in response to Mihashi, though, and he tries his best not to snarl at the fact that the tawny brunet jumps when he puts his hands on his shoulders. Desperately trying to reel his pitcher back from his fear.

 

“Stop saying you're a bad player! You aren't. You’re the ace of this team, Mihashi.  My ace.” If he's yelling, he can't tell. If so, how the other team members haven't found them yet is a mystery.

 

“Because of me! They always – always lost,” tears bubbling up again, and Takaya can feel his own panic in his stomach rising, not knowing what to do in this situation. “B-But I – Kano-san is better. I – D-didn't give up the mound, even – even though.”

 

He can't get carried away right now, letting the frustration boiling inside him spill; he has to be the pitcher's support.  This is the first time he’s had a real, proper conversation with Mihashi, and he wants to finish it.  The shaking, stuttering, half-formed sentences haven’t stopped, but it’s painfully obvious what the pitcher is trying to say; Abe isn’t sure why he had never found it easy to comprehend him before, but can only blame himself.  Natural impatience and frustration interfering with his understanding.

 

“You’re a good pitcher, Mihashi.  And – and a good teammate too.”  He’s still slightly shivering where Takaya is holding his arms, and brown eyes still shine with unshed tears, but the constant flow of them has stopped as the other boy listens to the catcher.  “Losing last year… you broke your arm.” Breathing slowing and voice dropping as he tries to think through the problem. Making sure to keep his hands firm, but not tight, on Mihashi's shoulders.  “That’s not your fault.”

 

More tears are bubbling up, and immediately he knows he’s screwed up again.  He isn’t good with this sort of thing, like Sekaeguchi or Izumi, or hell, even Tajima.  But they’re not here.  Abe was going to do try and do this right, no matter what. Even if he’s worried Mihashi may actually dehydrate himself completely if he keeps crying like this.

 

“T-That wasn't why. I broke it. A-after we lost.”

 

That's news to him. Voice searching as he looks for something in the other boy's face. “What do you mean?”

 

“W-we just lost.” Left hand rubbing his right arm unknowingly as he chokes past the snot. The catcher tentatively moving his hand to touch the skin of his arm too. “Pitch-pitching so bad. Everyone g-gave up.  I.  Ruined middle school, so Ha-Hatake – ”

 

He stops, wide-eyed, realizing what he had just shared. Takaya's blood running cold at the implications.

 

“Wait; were you attacked?” Wet gaze cuts to the floor again in avoidance, and it's all the confirmation the catcher needs. Mind racing as he remembers the scraps of information he’s learned about Mihashi, each interaction they’d had thus far.  The placement of the break, the force put behind the hit, the doctor’s warning.  Mihashi's unease of baseball, why the slight pitcher had always seemed to jump away from Takaya, the catcher, fear in his eyes, when he was still acting as a manager.  Why he still gave Takaya a wide berth most of the time when the team was all hanging out.

 

“I'm gonna **_fucking kill_ ** him.”

 

***

 

Hatake-kun hadn't died that day, but after their game and Abe-kun's near attempt at giving him a black eye (which was only avoided by Hanai, Izumi and Sakaeguchi pouncing on him before he got close enough; his shouting insults of “you _coward_ , how could you.  Do you have _any idea_ how much you hurt him.  You make me _sick_ ,” filling the tense atmosphere between the two teams as Abe struggled) meant that the pitcher had been forced to explain himself to their furious coach; only telling everyone the real reason Mihashi had quit baseball, broken his arm, after he looked to him in pleading desperation to let them know.  It didn’t seem like he cared about his own punishment; just wanted to explain the reason behind his uncharacteristic fury.  Abe-kun was loud, and sometimes a little angry, but no one had ever seen him so full of pure rage as he was that day.

 

It hadn’t been taken well by the team either.  A dent in the back paneling of the dugout Tajima had made was all that was left now in the aftermath, though.

 

It had been a fortnight since then, and Ren didn't feel the dark, heavy lump that was stuck in his stomach nearly as often during practice. Their game with Mihoshi had played out well; they had won – his pitches striking out his old teammates who had always been able to hit them before – and the warm happiness that had blossomed from the kindness he had felt from the entire team that afternoon had yet to fade.

 

With the addition of his rekindled friendship with Kano-san, and Abe-kun's encouragement and excitement over battery practice, Ren was happy. Nervous, of course; but happy that his baseball was helping people, rather than hurting them.

 

They've had three wins as a team already, and so far his pitches have been getting strikes. Again and again, batters' swings hitting nothing but air. They've had enough practice games now that the entire team feels better working with Mihashi as their pitcher, and he knows the day is coming when Momokan and the team will ask him to properly join the team. He hasn’t completely lost all his fear of what might happen; but even so, he wants to join them.  Knows that he isn’t alone on the mound anymore.  They’re a team.

 

It's a Thursday when their coach takes him aside to ask about him staying on as the permanent pitcher. Ren doesn't know if he's allowed to feel this happy when he sees the team unsubtly eavesdropping around them, Tajima giving him a thumbs up and wide grin in encouragement. He can't see Abe-kun, but he can feel his eyes watching his back – a strong presence that makes Ren feel better about how easy it is to nod to Momokan to join the team. She treats them all to extra onigiri in celebration, already prepared by Shino'oka, like she knew Ren would say yes.

 

He's under strict instruction not to over-exert his shoulder in the lead-up to the Saitama Summer Tournament by practicing too much at night, but Abe-kun lets him sneak in just a couple pitches in celebration, against his own orders.  Ren had almost gotten the feeling back in his follow-through, plus his balls were getting faster and stronger thanks to Coach and her core balance exercises.  His nerves had settled more too, knowing that Abe-kun could catch any ball he threw, no matter the speed or placement or batter.

 

He's going to be the ace, so he has to do it right.

 

***

 

The summer tournament passes quickly, and although they don't reach the finals, it's still farther than any of the team had expected back in March. Rather than settling into their recent loss, Coach has them looking to the upcoming prefectural tournament.

 

They've been practicing his pitches, a solid effort that has seen Mihashi's steady improvement for the upcoming games. After the third ball almost hits him in the face, though, Takaya admits that he may be a little distracted.

 

He can't help it, when the sunlight throws shadows across the field of the pitcher's strong silhouette. The glitter of the sun catching brown eyes as the ball leaves his hand, a cloud of dirt rising with his foot movement. The strong pitch hitting his glove once he catches it; their teamwork in perfect harmony as they develop a battery that he knows will be unbreakable.

 

There’s a magic in the air whenever Mihashi pitches.  Earnest feelings and dedication directed straight to Takaya’s mitt, that he always seems to catch.  No matter the placement, no matter the circumstances, Mihashi can pinpoint the ball to his glove.  He’s reliable and consistent, the best pitcher any decent catcher could ever want.

 

He's been thinking about Mihashi a lot. He can’t help it, when the other teen is a constant worry.  He doesn’t have any awareness of himself, practicing too hard, or not sleeping enough.  Shedding weight like clothing as he burns through endless energy.  Eats more than the rest of the team combined, it seems, but still never seems to fill the gaping hole in his gut caused by nerves or excitement.  

 

It was all part of understanding the curious anomaly of Mihashi Ren.

 

Then there are other times too; when sudden thoughts rise up unbidden halfway through dinner, or class, or when he’s studying.

 

Like how his laugh, rare as it is, makes Takaya’s heart beat off time. How his smiles make the afternoon seem just a little brighter. The warmth of his hand against his when they try to calm down.  How a moment looking at him can stretch to several minutes, if he’s not careful.

 

Or the taste of his first name in his mouth as he practices it in the privacy of his bedroom.

 

*

 

After he screws up and hurts his knee, the only thing Takaya can feel beyond the painkillers is guilt.  How he had seen the fear in Mihashi’s eyes as he’d limped to the dugout; their game ruined by Takaya’s impatience to get as many outs as possible.  Wanting to protect Mihashi from spending too long on the mound as soon as the game momentum had changed to the other team’s favor.  He hadn’t trusted him to not get flustered and give up runs.  Hadn’t trusted like he knew the other did him.

 

So when he visits that night – Tajima in the other room with Shun choosing something for dinner – it’s with a heavy sigh that he finally looks to Mihashi properly, ready to see the other boy deflated in defeat.  It wouldn’t surprise him if the pitcher blamed himself for what was obviously Takaya’s mistake.

 

Instead of the quietly wilted teen he had expected, large eyes are looking straight at him, looking over Takaya in search of something the catcher hopes he can give to the other boy.  He realises suddenly that the eyes he had always thought were brown were instead laced with green – a beautiful hazel that keeps him captivated.  A quick nod of the head punctuates the moment, breaking his sudden revelation, Mihashi’s small smile just adding to Abe’s confusion.

 

“It’s,” Mihashi’s sudden talking making Takaya jump in the unexpectedness of it.  “It’s OK, Abe-kun.”

 

It’s such a sudden reversal of their normal roles, he doesn’t quite know how to process the encouraging words from the other boy.  Earnest energy is radiating from him, and Takaya tries to remember this moment for when he forgets how strong their pitcher is.

 

“W-What do you mean?”

 

“Don’t – don’t feel bad.  A-about the game.”  Hand moving to hold his, he can feel the rough callus on slim fingers – ones built up over thousands of pitches.  His hand is warm, and he squeezes it in his own, enjoying the touch.

 

“When I – in middle school, whenever we lost.  I thought, um, I thought it was my fault.”  Mihashi isn’t looking at his face anymore; now looking to how their fingers intertwine.  Takaya has heard this story what seems like a thousand times now –  unspoken every time Mihashi had stayed late to practice or had positively radiated happiness after each game they had won.  The usual acceptance of it in the pitcher’s voice is gone, though, instead replaced with a soft motivation of a larger point he’s making.

 

“When you said, um.  When we played Mihoshi...  You said to rely on you?”  The lilt of a question raising the end, as Mihoshi’s head tilts to one side.  From this close, Abe can see the hints of gold amongst the green and brown in the other’s eyes, the faint pink of cheeks as Mihashi searches for his words.  “You can.  I-It’s the same.”

 

Heart pounding, Takaya feels like he’ll never be able to break away from the gaze Mihashi has on him.  

 

“”You, you can rely on – on me too, Abe-kun!”

 

There have been a lot of signs over the past few weeks if he’s being honest with himself, but the most obvious one is that he’s spending way too much time in this moment thinking about sealing that smile with a kiss.  Eyes closed, lips touching, the curve of his mouth against his. It's not exactly the straightest thing he'd ever thought, and it surprises him on how little that fact concerns him as he’s stuck noticing how soft Mihashi’s breathing is, barely a huff added to the room as they sit in silence together.

 

He doesn’t say anything right away.  Can’t find his voice in the moment, even though he knows Mihashi is waiting for him to respond – to say something.  Can only choke out a “y-yeah,” as he nods in agreement.

 

“Y-You’re the best, Abe-kun!  And, and together,” Takaya can’t feel his injury right now, can’t feel anything but the way his heart pounds loudly in his chest.  He wants to touch him, reach out and cup Mihashi’s cheek.  Feel the lithe musculature of his throwing arm, his back, his sides, under his hands.  Wants to tell him that he’s wrong.  That Mihashi is the best, amazing, wonderful.  So much more driven and passionate and hard-working than Takaya can say about himself.  That he’s the one lucky to catch for such an amazing pitcher.

 

Pink blush not quite hidden beneath the sun-kissed skin.

 

“Together we’re – we can beat everyone!”

 

*

 

He's stroking his dick before he even really realizes it.

 

It hadn't been a particularly unusual day; just another wasted afternoon as he sat on the sidelines of practice, watching Mihashi pitch to Tajima. His knee doesn't hurt so much as throb, but he knows it's still too early to push it into his catching crouch.

 

The boring drone of the evening news had followed him on his slow ascent to his bedroom, and his bath had been uneventful if not a little awkward maneuvering into. Flopping onto his bed, he can't help but hope for sleep to come soon, even though it's early. Maybe it would help his recovery speed if he got more sleep.

 

His summer homework is already half done – probably more than he could say for the rest of the team, save Nishihiro – and he can't help worrying over the knowledge that Mihashi's is probably lost amid the mess that is his bedroom, forgotten until the last week of summer. He'll have to go over and make sure he gets it done, Abe thinks.

 

It starts as an innocent what-if scenario of the two finishing the pitcher's homework in his bedroom; Mihashi writing his answers, and Takaya checking them over before moving to the next thing. It probably wouldn't be that hot, as he's sure the large western-style home his friend has would also have air conditioning, but he's seen the tawny brunet dripping in sweat enough to easily imagine it. Rogue droplets darting down Mihashi's neck, slipping past the neckline of his tee. Takaya can't help biting his lip a little at the thought, because wow. That was unexpectedly interesting.

 

Pulling off their shirts together because it was just too hot and stuffy; enough that glistening chests covered in sweat are exposed, and Mihashi is panting harder, like he'd just finished running laps around the baseball field. A quiet moan snaps his eyes open, and it's with swift embarrassment that Takaya realizes that he was the one responsible for the noise. Hand down his pants, sweats pushed down but cock still tucked into his boxer briefs as he had stroked himself to hardness.

 

Letting out an almost exasperated sigh, he decides to just commit to it. He's already half-hard, and his body was obviously needing something to burn off the frustration of his injury and newly-realized emotions towards his pitcher. Wriggling his hips enough to push his pants and underwear down farther, he finally frees the growing erection; licking his hand before moving it again, slowly, as he tries to remember the scene.

 

 _Bedroom, summer, shirtless_. Mihashi glowing in the sun, with that look he sometimes got when sending a ball to Takaya. Sharp and sure. His hand picks up the pace a little.

 

Mihashi is on his lap now, naked. That heavy panting right in his ear. Kneeling down as he heads towards Takaya's cock – just as hard as it feels in his hand, or in Mihashi's hand – pulling in just the way he likes. Another one of those looks that has Takaya moaning in the back of his throat; struggling blindly for a tissue with his free hand as he feels himself getting close. The idea of Mihashi on his knees, touching him, pushing him along with the jerk of his hand.

 

He cums with a strangled noise, successfully catching it with the tissue before he manages to get it on anything. Crumpling it up and throwing it towards his bin before he settles into the bonelessness of the afterglow. Jumping at the sudden **_thunk_ ** of something falling in Shun's room halfway down the hall.

 

Shit. Wow, OK. Let's not do that again. Even if the thought of Mihashi glistening with sweat (and cum?) has his blood heating.

 

He doesn't masturbate often, and only late at night or in the shower when he knows no one could overhear him. He's not loud, but it's still embarrassing to realize that his family was still all awake as he got off on a fantasy involving his teammate jerking him off. Anyone could have heard him; his brother could have come in asking for help with his own homework and caught him. He's a teenage boy with a nosy family; he really should know better.

 

He curls up to sleep after pulling his pants back up, hot blush hidden and ignored as he instead chooses to drift off to thinking about tomorrow's practice.

 

*

 

Cooking duties seem like a pain, but it becomes very evident, very quickly, that this time – quiet in the early hours of the day – is perfect for them.

 

Mihashi enjoys cooking – much more than Takaya does, at least – and every part of their breakfast meal left to him is done with the utmost care.  Abe doesn’t have the patience or the wherewithal to learn how he should be peeling vegetables properly, or checking the miso stock.  He may also enjoy when Mihashi takes over, smiling, telling Takaya that he can rest and watch.  Initial nerves about Mihashi cutting his fingers with the large knife quelled after the first day – instead, talented fingers slicing, peeling, dicing things as Takaya can only watch, transfixed.  No nervousness in this.  It’s perhaps the first time the catcher has ever seen the other boy so self-assured.

 

He’s not allowed to catch – despite his enthusiastic and near-desperate attempts to convince Momokan otherwise – so the morning ritual of them cooking together (or really, Mihashi cooking, Takaya trying not to ruin the other’s hard work) has become their new form of communication.  They still struggle to speak to each other sometimes at school when there are a million people around, or the stress of the situation keeps them tense; but here, those pressures are gone – just like when Mihashi is staring him down during a game, waiting for signs.  Or when he had visited after his knee injury, wanting to tell him to rely on him.  That they could rely on each other from now on.  It sends warm butterflies to his chest thinking that they make a good team, a good partnership off-field too.  That each day teaches them a little more about each other.  That Izumi and Tajima, with their uncanny understanding of Mihashi, will never have this time that they spend together.

 

Takaya wants to keep doing this. He wants more, even.  He wants to understand Mihashi as a friend and partner.  Wants Mihashi to feel the same.

 

He really hopes he does.

 

***

 

“You and Abe-kun have been getting along well recently, Mihashi-kun.  I’m glad you two understand each other so well.”

 

Ren and Shino’oka are in the clubroom, sorting through relevant info for their upcoming game of the Autumn tournament.  He’s no longer a manager, but he’s gotten used to the work and enjoys the few afternoons with their reliable female manager.  She was one of his first friends, and he owes her a lot.  She’s smart and nice, and one of the only people he can ask about Abe.

 

“D-do you really, _doyoureallythinkso?_ ”

 

She just smiles at him, finished with sorting as she puts the stack of notes by her bag.  Wiping her forehead with her forearm, she sighs in happiness at finishing their job.

 

“You wanted to ask me something, right?”  Shino’oka has always had an uncanny way of understanding what Ren wants to say without him even knowing.  “Something about Abe-kun?”

 

He hadn’t considered asking her about the confusingly circling thoughts he’d had about the catcher over the last several weeks, but she would probably know better than anyone what would be best.

 

“Yuu-kun, he um.  At his house.”  They had all gone to the Tajima’s last week for barbecue.  Hopefully, Shino’oka could understand what he was trying to say.  “First names, are – are OK.”

 

Her smile is always soft, warm.  It’s one of the reasons why he finds it so easy to talk to her.  

 

“It was a bit of a shock, to be honest; but it was fun.  I don't even have any middle school friends who call me Chiyo.”

 

“M-Me too!”  Voice louder, happier, and he can see that Shino’oka understands.  He didn’t have many friends from Mihoshi anyway, but Kano hadn’t called him Ren in a long, long time.  Blinking back to the manager, he can feel her smile settle the butterflies in the pit of his stomach.  “But now, not just Yuu-kun does.  Abe-kun, ah!  O-or maybe, T-Takaya?  During the break, or, in practice.”  Just that morning the catcher had called him Ren when he visited the class, meeting up about their lunchtime practice plans.  The fluttery butterflies in his stomach flare up again at the memory; happiness filling him.  “Do you think; I mean, I think he wants?  The same?”

 

She looks at him like she's expecting something more to be said, but just stays quiet as she thinks once it's evident that Ren doesn't have anything else to add. Looking to the window momentarily, she's got her full attention on him before he realizes – brown eyes glittering in the afternoon sun.

 

“It would be nice if you called him by first name too, Ren.”  She’s blushing red at trying out his first name too, a little nervous at the somewhat immediate intimacy it suggests; but just nods her head to herself in encouragement to not back down.  “If Abe-kun wants you to use his name, and if you want to too, I think you should try to, at least.”

 

He tries it out mentally.  Wonders if hearing Ren say his name will make the same sort of happiness shoot up Abe – no, Takaya’s – spine, like it does for him.

 

He’s got to practice.  Got to practice enough where he doesn’t stutter when he uses it.

 

Takaya.

 

_Takaya._

 

**_Takaya._ **

 

***

 

They’re cleaning balls together after practice when he decides that, screw it, he’s already spending half his life thinking about the boy sitting across from him anyway, may as well do something about it.  Their first game of autumn had been just the last Saturday, and Takaya could tell how much the entire team had improved, even over the short span since summer.  Ren’s pitches stronger than before, more confident.  Trusting that Takaya would catch them, every time. It's a miracle his knee had healed in time for any of their major games, but Ren just acts like he never doubted it would be Takaya behind the batter once the Autumn Tournament started. His stomach does a flip at that thought.

 

Ren is humming tunelessly as he works – rag in one hand, baseball in the other.  They’re in the dugout as the rest of the team works on the field – afternoon practice almost over.

 

Momokan is talking with Shiga-sensei, and every so often Abe can hear her laugh in triumph.  He can feel the warmth of the pitcher sitting across from him, even in the cooler weather – tawny hair moving with the wind.

 

He’s nervous.  Of course he is.  Even the pressure of being behind with bases loaded and a cleanup at-bat has never felt like this.  He feels like his hands are shaking, the brush moving erratically across the ball he’s trying to clean.

 

Still, he has no intention of not doing this.

 

Mihashi is still blissfully unaware of the ferocious nerves overwhelming him, pleased expression accentuated with a nod as he moves to his next ball.  He’s gotten through at least double that of Takaya, still half-humming to himself.

 

“Ren, I.”  Those hazel eyes are looking right at him now, beaky smile questioning as he tilts his head to the side.  “I have something to tell you.”

 

He can’t say anything else right away; letting the silence linger far too long between them.  He was wrong, he’s not ready for this.  Not strong enough yet if the soft, kind, hardworking boy he’s grown these feelings for rejects him.  They’re just sitting in silence looking at each other, and Abe can’t get his tongue to move.

 

“Takaya?”  The quiet is broken as a hand reaches towards his, fingers holding his own.  Can feel Ren’s warmth seeping into his hand as he realizes how cold he is, was.  The pitcher repeats his name, getting closer, concerned, and Takaya finally feels like he can breathe again.

 

“I like you, Ren.  As more than a – my pitcher.”  The other boy just blinks back looking like some sort of realization is dawning, but Takaya has to make sure he’s clear before the other comes to the wrong conclusion. “A-as more than a friend too, or an ace.  I want to – um, I mean -,” he’s sounding suspiciously like Mihashi now.  Slapping his free hand to his forehead, and taking a breath to calm his thoughts, he starts over.  Ren still looking at him, somewhat pink from the praise, and wearing an expression that has Abe worried about his heart thumping so loudly.

 

He’s fallen horrifyingly hard for him.

 

“I like you, Ren.  Will you go out with me?”

 

***

 

Standing just outside their destination, like he said he would be, was Abe.  Ren can't help admiring how nice he looks in more casual clothes; suddenly despairing in his own choice of outfit. He'd tried finding something nice to wear for his first date (and even now, he can’t quite believe this is a date.  He’d had trouble sleeping the night before from smiling too much), but he didn't look anywhere near as stylish or put-together as the catcher.

 

Waving with a smile once he sees him getting closer, Mihashi can't help returning it with one of his own. He's never been too confident, but things are somehow easier with Abe.  The catcher has seen him at his absolute worst, so Ren doesn’t feel like he’s forcing anything.

 

Takaya seems happier today than the afternoon he’d asked him out.  He looks exactly like how Ren feels, like the sun is glowing inside of him, and Ren’s trying hard not to melt into a giant puddle of happiness when the other boy stops in front of him instead of the several dozen other people waiting around the area (including, he takes note, at least three cute girls in sundresses).  One hand ruffles his dark hair, and green eyes drop to look at the pavement.  “I was worried you might have gotten lost.  Or not show up.”

 

It’s ten minutes past their meetup time, and Ren is acutely aware of how long he’d spent trying to choose a shirt this morning.

 

“You asked me, so – so, of course I'd come!”

 

For some reason, Abe blushes at that – red ears and neck as he pulls out the tickets he'd bought. Voice cracking a little, which just makes him blush darker.

 

“So, uh, I hope you like the movie – I wasn't sure what kind of film you'd want to see, so I just chose the one that seemed the most popular,” holding out Ren's ticket, showing time in the next 10 minutes. “If you want popcorn or anything, I'll go buy it now.”

 

“I can.  Get the – the snacks, Takaya,” it sounds different to use his first name here, compared to Yuu’s or at practice.  Abe seems to agree because his ears get even darker at that.  “You paid.  For the tickets, already.”

 

“No, it's OK. Today is my treat.” Already seeming to have control over his blush, he just holds his hand out expectantly. Curling his fingers around Ren's when he timidly puts his hand in the preoffered one.

 

They do end up getting popcorn and a soda to share; the film is some popular romance one with a supernatural twist – based off of a manga he recognizes as one Ruri used to read. There are a handful of couples littered around the cinema, and a group of girls sitting a few rows ahead keep giggling and whispering whenever the main actor is on screen. It's not the first choice he would have made, but Ren doesn't mind if this is the type of film that Abe-kun enjoys seeing.  Doesn’t mind, as he’s seeing it with Takaya, on a date, together.

 

What's happening onscreen doesn't really register as he mulls over that, and a growing smile creeps onto his face.

 

His fingers brushing against the other boy's when he reaches for some popcorn has him snap out of his daydream, and the slight tickle of skin against his own has Ren looking to Abe, eyes wide and curious, blushing a little, but bolder in the relative darkness of the cinema. He hasn't drawn his fingers away yet, and he isn't sure why they're staring at each other – neither really paying attention to the background noise of the heroine running to her love. Takaya's eyes look even darker, light and dark from the screen reflecting on his face enough for Ren to notice, but the other boy blinks, and it's gone.

 

Turning back to the screen, it's not long before the credits roll. The popcorn is gone, but he doesn't remember finishing it. The outside is a little too bright after the darkness of the cinema, and he squints against the white spots in his eyes.

 

Takaya suggests they go for ice cream, and instead of cheap convenience store ices, his teammate leads them to a proper ice cream parlor; and once again he pays. The summer flavors are almost out of season, so Ren gets kyoho grape whilst he still can. It's sweet, just like he likes it, and they sit together on a park bench as they eat – side-by-side.

 

“How are you getting home?”

 

“Bike; I wasn't sure of the bus schedule.”

 

The taller boy doesn't say anything to that, but Ren can tell he heard him. Huffing a little, there's a small smile he almost misses. Ren likes to think he’s gotten over most of his nervousness around the catcher, but being on a date with him is a completely different experience.

 

“Do you want to walk together? I don't mind.” It's a simple question, but it makes him happy, all the same.

 

They walk back to the Mihashi home, afternoon sun still high in the sky; the trees growing sparse this time of year.  His six-speed is between them, an awkward walking partner, but he doesn't mind pushing it along. Takaya had offered to take over more than once, but Ren absolutely couldn't let him do that – not after everything else the other boy had done for him today.  Finds the other’s hand on his elbow instead, a small point of contact, but enough to keep him feeling giddy.

 

The streets quiet as they reach the suburbs, familiar landmarks as they get closer and closer. All too late, it hits him that the end of their date is looming.  He doesn’t want this to end so soon – they’ve been out for nearly the entirety of the day already, but it feels like it’s passed in a flash; like he’d barely spent an hour with his catcher, despite the afternoon sun betraying how late it was getting.   He must have been distracted, because when someone else speeds by on their bicycle, bell ringing as they pass, the suddenness makes him jump a little – closer now to his teammate, the pedal almost hitting against his calf. Dark eyebrows shoot up in surprise, concern laced in his expression.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

“Y-yeah, no problem. Just wasn't, um.  Expecting that.”

 

Eyeing his leg suspiciously, Ren realizes the other must be worried about if he'd gotten hurt. All that pitch training would be for nothing if he couldn't play in games (again) because of his own mistakes (again).  Instead of stopping their walk to inspect the spot like he would have just a few months ago, Takaya instead takes the bike from Ren.  Silently pushing it to the other side of them between the walkway wall.  Both hands free now, he isn’t quite sure what to do with them, so bunches them in the hem of his shirt.  Warmth blossoms in his chest at how considerate Abe is in these small ways.  Even before this – this date.

 

He can see the roof of his house from where they are now, just at the end of the street; sinking feeling in his gut as their day comes to a close. Dedicating the afternoon to homework and chores and a few sneaky hours of practice throws. As much as the boy beside him tells him not to overwork himself, he has to do something to work through all this excited energy.

 

The gate is unlocked, but that's not surprising; the door is rarely locked on a weekend, but he's not sure if his parents are home. Leaning his bike against the wall, he turns back to Takaya, ready to offer him a drink at least for taking the time to walk him home.

 

“D-do you want to come in? I think we, uh, might have some tea.”

 

“Oh, uh, no, thanks. I should probably head home before my Dad starts harping on me about slacking off.” His shoulders are squared, strong, and he's smiling, but Ren can't help feeling a little sad; foot scuffing at the welcome mat.  “So I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.”

 

Ren's about to try and offer again, to insist a little more as thanks for treating him so much today, but he doesn't get the words out. Because Takaya’s close, and his eyes are closed. Leaning in, hands hovering at his side like he doesn't quite know what to do with them. And his lips are on Ren's and all of a sudden all he can smell is sunshine and popcorn and vanilla. And it's so warm and nice and maybe something else as his stomach flips.  He’s stock still against the other boy, but not because of nerves.  He doesn’t want to even risk breathing in case he ruins this moment, with Takaya breaking through Ren’s hesitant fear that today was some sort of wonderful dream.

 

He wants to memorise this feeling of having someone – no, not just ‘someone’; Abe Takaya, the boy who saw Mihashi at his absolute worst, and still thinks he's talented, special, a good teammate, someone to ask on a date – kissing him softly, and like Ren might break into a thousand shards of glass; but he’s never been any good at studying or memorising things.

 

His lack of response must give the wrong message, though, as the other draws back quickly.  Far too quickly.  Abe just blushes and digs his hands deep into his pockets.

 

“Sorry if you didn't like it,” red ears all Ren can really focus on – his body feels like it's floating and he's watching from a higher point; the two of them awkwardly standing at his front door. “I haven't gone out with anyone else before, so I thought it was pretty normal for people to kiss at the end of the first date.”

 

***

 

“D-didn’t...?” wide eyes growing even larger as Mihashi seems to think that over. The other boy can't seem to collect his words, incredulity filling in the way his frame locks. It's at exactly that moment that Takaya realizes he's screwed up, big time.

 

He wants to just smash his head into the nearest wall. He’d screwed up and gotten ahead of himself; forgetting that it usually took more time for Ren to sort through stuff like this.  He’d only just told the pitcher his feelings two days ago, after all.  This was their first date, but their romantic relationship was still in its trial period.  Abe’s feelings are probably still something uncertain for the other boy.

 

He feels like an idiot; and even worse, he might have ruined that tenuous trust that he'd started building with Mihashi – might have lost the best pitcher he'd ever known. He feels like going home and just locking himself in his room for a few weeks. Long enough to forget the way Mihashi had looked at him in the cinema; cheeks red and lips wet, parted. He'd resisted the urge to kiss him there, and now it just made him wonder how much sooner his day would've been ruined if he had decided to lean over the armrest between their seats and done it instead. His face so open and happy, the slight fluttering in his stomach.

 

The worst part is that he'd been _sure_ that he wasn't the only one. Had thought that he'd been able to see the expectation in his expression as they walked together to the Mihashi home, as Ren stalled by the door, ears pink and big eyes unwavering as he looked to Takaya.  He thought he was pretty good at reading other people, but obviously not.

 

The one thing he could count as lucky, though, is that he doesn't think Ren would spread rumors about this. He's a nice guy like that, and Takaya's humiliation will stay between them at least.  Or, for as long as it takes before Tajima gets wind of it.

 

God, he doesn't want to be in this situation.

 

There's only one thing he wants to do, and it involves trying to forget how much had loved the feeling of Ren's hand in his, rough fingertips brushing against his own as they went to get their ice cream. How warm he had felt, burning up from the inside, lips against lips. First comes an apology, though. Looking up from where he'd hid his face in his hands (something he didn't have any memory doing), he can't help the humorless laugh that chokes his throat when he sees the pitcher – eyes still wide, bottom lip worried between his teeth. Probably still trying to process that kiss. And that recent memory makes his stomach curdle – sick feeling when he realizes he technically forced himself on his unexpecting friend.  On the guy that made Takaya reconsider all those flowery love songs and cheesy films.  The one person in the world that Takaya would accept his mother’s concerned nagging and redressing for, once she had realized her oldest son was going on a _date_.  

 

He really, really screwed up.

 

“Ren, I'm so sorry. God, I didn't even think.” Blinking is all the response he gets; thin hands moving to clasp together in front of him, eyes moving to stare at his shoes. “I promise it won't happen again; you don't have to worry.”

 

He wants to retreat as soon as he can. Takes a step, prepared to take his leave whilst apologizing again. Hoping against all hope that he will be; that he hasn’t screwed up his one chance to make something meaningful – in baseball, or otherwise – with Mihashi Ren.

 

Ready to turn away completely, he feels a tug – a strained, high-pitched “A-Abe-kun, wait,” keeping him in place.  His last name stabbing him in the gut like a knife.

 

“D-Don't leave; don't just.  Don’t go,” face hidden by the fluffy brown of his fringe, hand grabbing the hem of his tee. “I didn't. I don't want it to – to not happen again.” Voice fading out so much that Takaya can't really believe he heard right.

 

He can hear Mihashi take a deep breath, steeling himself, and quicker than he can realize he's looking directly into those brown-green eyes – stare unwavering and fearless despite his usual timid nature. “I liked it, Takaya.” He's the one that feels caught in the headlights, and it's such a reversal of their usual roles he can't help but smile, even as his heart is imploding. Wants to see this side of Mihashi much, much more. Wants to discover as much as he can about the other teen.  “I want to do it again.”

 

He can’t seem to find his tongue as his date breaks through the panic he'd been spiraling into.  Had he been overthinking things?  Was this who Ren was?  “D-Do you mean that? Really?”

 

“Huh?”  The tawny brunet looks a little shocked at the question back, and it seems to have broken the spell; Ren blinking rapidly between Takaya’s face and hand like the catcher was used to.

 

“I want to make sure this is real.” One hand moving to his head as he shakes it in disbelief. “That I'm not just hallucinating.”

 

And if he had expected Mihashi to lean forward first – eyes closed as their lips touch again, both hands on his hem pulling the fabric closer, warm against him like the memories of the summer sun – then maybe the shock wouldn't have stopped his heart for the split-second it did; wouldn't have felt such a huge mix of relief and happiness melting him into the sensation as he considers that maybe he hadn't ruined everything.

 

“D-did you want to, um,” Ren being the first to recover after that kiss. Their first kiss, because, really, Takaya’s attempt couldn’t compare to that. “Did you want to catch my um, my slider? I think I’ve gotten most of – more control back.”

 

He’s got homework, and nosey family, and a stack of notebooks full of batting averages to pour over once he gets home.  Or Ren.  Ren flushed pink, and smiling, and looking hopefully to Takaya like his response could answer the questions of the universe, _right here_ in front of him.

 

He almost pulls him in for another kiss.  Decides to make his way to the backyard, instead.

 

***

 

He told his parents about his date with Abe after the fact; after the catcher had greeted Ren’s mother as she returned home that same afternoon, saying his goodbyes at the doorway and nervously checking for the older Mihashi before swooping in for a soft, fleeting kiss.

 

He had just stared out towards the street until Takaya was long gone.

 

It hadn’t felt right to keep it from his parents, because hopefully, Takaya, um. Hopefully, they would be together for a long time.  It seemed a little ridiculous to be thinking about so far in the future just after a first date; but though Ren is aware he isn’t the most outgoing or confident guy, he always knows what he wants.  He wants to become the ace and stand on the mound.  He wants to pitch to Takaya, more than anyone else, and stop batters from ever getting a hit.  He wants to be friends with the baseball team, and win together, and get to Koshien.

 

He wants to date Takaya, maybe even more than any of that. But he couldn’t ever say that aloud.

 

So, he has to tell his parents about it.  Because it’s not something that he’ll stop wanting.  Not now that he has it; he’s stubborn, he knows that.

 

He’s not even nervous about it.  His parents are – were – the only people he could trust for a long time after the break.  He’s never been the easiest kid, he knows; but he also knows that his parents love him.  When his dad brings mochi or pork buns or some other food back from his meetings, offering to catch ball for Ren.  His mom, making his favorite foods when he wins, or needs a pick-me-up.  Both of them letting him switch middle schools so easily, even though it meant they would start having to pay tuition.  He loves his parents, and they love him; and he lov-likes Takaya, so.  So they will too.  He’s sure.

 

It’s past 9 when his dad gets home, tired.  Ren would normally have drifted off by then, fed and washed, homework given a miserable attempt, but his heartbeat is far too frenzied to even think of sleep.  He’s excited.  Excited to share his news.  His voice is loud in greeting his father's return home, and the older man looks shocked at Ren’s energy so late in the night.

 

“I have something to tell you; can you and Mom listen?” The older Mihashi just nodding to his son before he toes his shoes off.

 

There’s tea, a long work-weary sigh, and a pleased hum before Ren can say anything to his parents across the table.  Loosening his necktie, his Dad stretches his neck before looking to his Mom and smiling.  Nodding to him, Ren starts to share.

 

“I went on a date today,” big grin, as he tries to think through exactly what he wants to say.

 

His father looks like he’s been slapped with a fish, blinking to Ren in disbelief. “You really aren’t a child anymore, huh?”

 

“I just wanted to tell you, um both of you, that Abe-kun and I; we’re dating!”  His dad has yet to meet the catcher, but Takaya’s been over plenty of times that his mom has been home.  She also comes to their games enough now that it would be weirder if she didn’t recognize the name.  “We went to the movies, and had ice cream.”

 

“N-Naoe?  Do you know who he’s talking about?”

 

“He’s a nice boy,’ she nods, smiling in that way that means that she approves.  Hand moving to her husband’s arm, Ren isn’t sure if she’s answering his father, or just responding to the news.  “You should invite him over for dinner one night, Ren; we can arrange our schedules.”

 

His father still looks shocked at the fact that Ren might be interested in dating, but just sighs before muttering about how quickly kids grow up.

 

“I look forward to meeting him if you both think he’s a good person,” his father continues, after taking in a long drink of tea.  “Does he also play baseball?”

 

“He’s the catcher! A-And the vice-captain!”

 

His mother is holding his father's forearm softly now, just like Takaya does when he's trying to impress a pitching point or study note to Ren. His stomach flips in recognition.

 

“You should come watch them play, Reiichi.  There are lots of parents that come to the games, including the Abes,” sounding nearly as excited as Ren feels.  “It isn’t just mothers either; Abe-san is very knowledge about baseball and often comes to cheer with his wife, so it would be nice if you met them too.”

 

Their next game is a week away, and the Mihashis will all be in attendance.

 

***

 

“I know I told you that you need to improve your relationship with your pitcher, Taka, but you don’t need to date the poor boy.”

 

“I know I don’t need to, but I want to,” rolling his eyes at the thought that his Dad had anything to do with it.  “This is different from baseball.”

 

“Well, alright.”  Large hand ruffling his hair before going back to his newspaper.  “Make sure to be nice.”

 

“I don’t need you to tell me that!”

 

***

 

It isn’t until a week or so before Christmas, just after the team had finished cleaning up from the team party for Takaya's birthday, that Ren remembers that he and his boyfriend should plan something.

 

They hadn't had any time to spend together during their (one month) anniversary during the school trip in October, so the pitcher wants to make up for that too.  The rest of the team is organising a party for the evening, as none of them have dates, and to celebrate all of them passing the semester exams (even if he and Yuu only just did.  Although, his scores were higher than the semester before; all thanks to Shin-kun, Chiyo-san and Takaya), but their morning and early afternoon is free.  It will probably be busy most places, so he isn’t sure where they should go.

 

He asks Yuu his advice on what a good Christmas date would be, and feels like he’s burning alive when he answers with ‘love hotel’.  Mortified, he can’t trust himself to start thinking along those lines.  This would technically only count as their 3rd date, and the first time Ren’s asked Takaya out, so something so, so _embarrassing_ and _perverted_ is completely out of the question.

 

(He may secretly think about it privately, later, though.)

 

Hama-chan’s suggestion is better, telling him that seeing the Christmas lights around town would be festive and fun; clapping Ren on the back in encouragement to ‘treat that smitten fool for working so hard before the end of the year.’  The biggest problem with that plan is that the lights are better at night when they have their party.  He doesn’t want to miss out on spending time with their friends, even if they have a date.

 

Plus, being around so many other couples just seems sort of daunting.  Ren wants to enjoy himself when he’s out on a date with Takaya, but in a large crowd of people he knows he’s going to be even more nervous than usual.  He has to think of something better; something that will be fun for Christmas.

 

He's also got a few ideas for gifts, but no idea on how to go about it.

 

He might ask Chiyo-san; she's good at this sort of thing.

 

*

 

He's waiting outside the Abe house, wondering if he should ring the doorbell or not.  It hasn't gotten cold enough for any of the sparse snowfall to stick, but the frigid wind still bites against any skin exposed to the air – large scarf not enough to fully protect his face.  He's wasting time by just standing outside like this, but he can't help it.  He's still a little nervous around Takaya’s family, even though they're all nice and welcoming and understanding. He just feels like he needs to impress them more; to prove that he's a good boyfriend and that dating Ren isn't a total waste of time for Takaya (although at this point, he knows that he may be the only one that still needs convincing). Another gust of wind pushes him to finally reach for the automated button and the quick run-up to the door he can hear on the other side is a sure giveaway that Shun will be answering.

 

As expected, the youngest Abe opens the door with a wide grin, ushering him in from the cold before darting up the stairs.  His normal guest slippers are waiting at the edge of the genkan, a quiet expectation for Ren to join them inside.  Sliding on his slippers (his slippers) and removing his coat, he heads to greet Takaya's parents.

 

There are a few Christmas decorations around the living room, and Ren can see that the strawberry shortcake for the family later is already sitting on the kitchen countertop.  Takaya's father is in his usual spot on the couch, off work from his plumbing business for the week of Christmas and New Years.

 

“Nice to see you, Ren; I hope your family is doing well.”  Mrs. Abe wiping her hands on a tea towel before coming to hug him.  “Merry Christmas.”

 

Returning the hug, he feels warmer in the Abe home than he did bundled up in his coats.  “M-Merry Christmas to you, too.”

 

“I went to tell Taka you were here; he said he'll be down in a minute,” Shun says as he returns from upstairs.  “Are you doing something fun on your date, Ren?  Going to see the lights?”

 

“Not the, the lights, but.  But hopefully still fun!”  He was still a little doubtful whether his date plans would be any good, but Shun’s grin makes him feel a little better.

 

“Don't worry; not matter what you've planned, I'm sure Taka will love it.”  Getting close in a conspiratorial whisper, Ren has to lean down a little to reach the same level as the middle schooler.  “He's been grinning like a dope all week since you asked him.”

 

It's that moment that Takaya decides to join them in the main room, taking a second to shoot his younger brother a wary look before moving to Ren. Small smile as he comes to stand next to him. “Hey,” one hand moving to rub at his neck, somewhat bashful.  “Sorry for making you wait.”

 

Ren can hear himself squawk at that, even as he shakes his head not to worry.  He didn't even notice, so there's no need to apologize.  Even if he had noticed, he doesn’t mind waiting.

 

“M-Merry Christmas.”  Feeling the warmth in his chest expand at Takaya blushing.

 

“Merry Christmas, Ren. We should probably get going, right?” Giving his family an apprehensive glance, like he’s hoping they won't embarrass him. Ren sort of understands the feeling, although he's never thought of the Abes as embarrassing. Regardless, he lets Takaya pull him into the hallway as he gives his boyfriend's family a leaving bow; Mrs. Abe calling, “you're welcome to stay the night here, Ren, if you boys stay out too late,” after them.

 

Redressing in his coat and shoes, they're holding hands even before they get outside; Shun waving them goodbye before Takaya closes the door to his house in a huff. Stepping close, he readjusts Ren's scarf where it's slipped down; blushing again as he retracts his hands. “Sorry.”

 

“It's. It's OK.”

 

“Where are we going?” Smiling face snuggling into his coat as shoulders pull up against the wind. It's hard to remember a time when Takaya hadn't been able to smile as easily as this, towards him, and Ren can't help how his heart flutters at the thought of how far they've come. This may have only been their third official date, but they see each other almost every day.

 

“Train station.” They have to go all the way into Tokorozawa for what he wants to do today, and he hopes his boyfriend doesn't mind. Takaya nodding in understanding, they head towards the station, hands linked again.

 

*

 

The stadium isn't deserted, but the Christmas holiday does mean that there are far fewer people here than on a typical 'Family Day' event. The train had been quite crowded on the way over, but by the time they had reached the Seibukyūjō-mae Station, most of the other passengers had alighted at earlier stops. Despite the eventual roominess, Ren was happy that Takaya never moved from holding one hand in his; the other at the small of his back, almost like he was holding him close. If the catcher had guessed where they were going at any point on the way, he didn't say. Ren took that as a good sign.

 

Seibu Dome, home of the Saitama Seibu Lions, has an indoor field, so even with the wintery weather they can shed their coats and scarves. Most of the other people around are parents with young kids, so Ren moves Takaya and himself to a bullpen after grabbing a ball and matching mitts. His boyfriend hasn't said anything yet, just smiling and following along. Does he like this idea? Was it a stupid idea to choose something baseball related? Ren just can't trust himself to be able to tell.

 

The staff running the event seem pretty preoccupied with playing with the multitude of grade schoolers around the field, so no one stops them on their way to the side of the diamond. Ren'd be lying if he said he didn't want to stand on the mound, but right now he doesn't have the time to daydream.

 

“If I had known we'd be practicing, I would have brought my gear.” There's a cheeky grin that accompanies that statement, but Ren's stomach still sinks. He hadn't even thought about that, even though it's so obvious. Sucking in a breath, he suddenly feels reluctant about getting any closer to where they were going. Stopping suddenly, he grips the baseball in his hand; stitching making marks in the skin.

 

“Sorry,” biting his lip to stop it from wobbling; he feels like he's already failed their Christmas date.

 

“Hey.” Dark eyebrows shooting up. “Ren, what's – I didn't mean -”

 

“Sorry I screwed up.”

 

Ren can see the panic flaring up behind the green eyes of his boyfriend, even though he's trying not to hyperventilate. Takaya's hand is on his back, the other on his face, keeping his gaze even though Ren wants nothing more than to hide. “No, Ren, no. You didn't – I didn't mean to make you feel bad. It was a joke.” Cursing lowly, Takaya flicks his gaze around them before stepping even closer.

 

“You need your gear to catch, and I forgot; I, I was too focused on... on making sure – ” The heavy hurt of welling tears is compounding in his head, and he screws his eyes shut against them. Ren wants to apologize again, but Takaya interrupts his thought by dragging him even farther towards the bullpen; one arm over Ren's shoulders as they move. They're not as exposed there as they were out in the field – none of the surrounding kids going out this far from the central diamond.

 

His boyfriend stays quiet, but the way his brow is creased, Ren can tell he's thinking through things first. Takaya has always been reactive – it's one of the things that makes him seem scary or intimidating at first – but in the months since getting closer, the pitcher has noticed Takaya taking more time in talking with him. Ren needs to apologize again still, but he's sort of wanting to hear what Takaya says first. Mihashi knows the other teen is taking his time for his sake; that his nerves and general anxiety have pushed his conscientious boyfriend into making sure they understand each other. It helps stop any more misunderstandings than they had early on in their friendship and relationship, and Ren appreciates it a lot. Knows that he has a tendency to jump to the worst conclusion.

 

Large hands are on his cheeks now. They aren't cold, even though it's winter.

 

“Ren, I don't need my gear to catch for you,” large thumb brushing against his fringe. “You've never hit me once when you pitch.”

 

He leans into a kiss. It seems dangerous, kissing here, where anyone could see, but Ren loves how easily his worries melt against Takaya. His words helping allay his growing fears of ruining their date. He's still got the anxious flutter in his gut, but Takaya pulls back just enough that Ren can feel his breath against his skin, warm, and he feels a little better about it. Thumb running against his bottom lip; freeing where he bit down unknowingly.

 

“I trust you, Ren.” Baseball dropping out of his hand as his boyfriend says such powerful things. He's never been trusted before. His knees are shaking, but he's not afraid. He feels like this would be the right time to cross that distance again to show him how much it means to hear that, but instead, he's going to tell Takaya. With his words. Because he wants to put in as much effort as his boyfriend has for him.

 

“Takaya.” His voice doesn't wobble, surprisingly. The hands cupping his cheeks soften ever slightly as they both realize the earlier tension and panic is slipping away.

 

“Ren.”

 

“Do you – uh, should we. Would you catch for me?”

 

“Of course,” stepping back to slip his glove on. Bending to pick up the baseball had dropped earlier, Takaya brushes it on his pants before handing it over. “And afterward, you should get a photo on the mound. Who knows, you may be playing here someday.” Head jerking back to the general area they had been in before.

 

“Together!” Abe smiling at Ren's addition, expression sincere enough to melt the last bit of apprehension in the pitcher.

 

Ren still wasn't sure if he meant for the photograph or the future baseball games.

 

Both, probably.

 

***

 

It's a little after nine when the Christmas party in Saitama with the team winds down. He's almost certain Yuu smuggled some of his family's sake into the drinks; his loudness being particularly obnoxious as he slung himself over Ren and Yūto in between songs. Whispering in the pitcher's ear things that turn Ren a pretty shade of pink, and Takaya has to stop himself from physically pulling their pinch hitter off of him.

 

There's a warm buzz settled in his stomach, and he'd been able to sit next to his boyfriend the entire night; legs pressed together, hip to knee to ankle. Kousuke had been shooting him a particularly knowing look as Takaya found his fingers interlaced with Ren's, smirk taunting in the only way the switch-hitter could. He's half-dragging Yuu home now as they stumble towards the train station – the shorter boy half-singing the mix of songs from karaoke. It's a ridiculous sight, and Abe can't help muffling his chuckle into his scarf. Serves him right.

 

Fumiki had offered to take Chiyo home, and the two had disappeared shortly after. Whether or not Mizutani would confess to their cute manager was up to him; Takaya still sent him some mental luck, either way. He looked like he needed it.

 

The rest of the team scattered into smaller groups as they head home, wishing each other a happy winter break. Ren next to Takaya the entire time, head resting on his shoulder as he sleepily waves to their friends. It's not particularly late, but he's not complaining about the closeness.

 

“How about we go look at the lights?” Takaya is expecting Ren to decline – he's not the best with crowds, and Christmas light viewing on Christmas is guaranteed to be busy, but he just wants some more time together. Doesn't want to end the day on the train between Tajima and Izumi and half of the team.

 

Surprisingly, Ren just huffs a happy-sounding “OK”, before linking their arms together and switching directions towards the main lights display. There are large crowds like he expected, but Ren must be buzzed enough from the atmosphere (or sake-spiked juice) that he doesn't seem to care.

 

Elbows interlocked, they wind through the crowds. Lights glittering in gorgeous golds, greens and blues illuminating the trees along the main road, but there's a hint of pink flush across Ren's cheeks and nose that Takaya can't stop looking at. The way the catcher's eyes glitter as they take in the lights, unconcerned with all the other couples around them. Soft hair tickling the side of his face as they walk together.

 

Right in the middle of the square is a Christmas tree. They stop far from the base of it; too many people around that Takaya doesn't really feel the need to get any closer.

 

“I'm glad we didn't miss the lights.” Ren's voice seems a little far away, but soft and fond. “I wanted to see them with you, but I didn't think we would.”

 

“Really, I wasn't sure you would want to be around so many people; are you sure you're OK, Ren?” Bumping up against his side, Takaya feels like his whole body is stuck in a sweet lurch as Ren grins, genuinely happy, in response. Has to take a minute before he can reboot his brain in the moment. Maybe Ren wasn't the only one buzzed from the atmosphere (or sake).

 

There's a free bench in the park; the festive glow of the lights around them, but less crowded than closer to the tree. There are still plenty of people around, but everyone else seems caught up in their own dates that the two teenage boys are never given a second glance.

 

“Merry Christmas, Takaya,” sometime during their way to sitting down, Ren had pulled out a slim package. There's no card, but it's no question who it’s from.

 

Unwrapping the gift carefully, he can see where his boyfriend got a little overzealous with the tape; trying hard to not rip the paper, unsuccessfully.

 

It's not boxed up, instead fitted to a piece of blue card for backing. A pair of white, thin leather straps, stitched together with red thread stretched down the length; half of a press stud at each end.

 

It's a bracelet. Homemade and thick like a cuff, and that looks like the stitching on a baseball. He doesn't know if he's breathing or not, but another wave of affection is crawling up his spine, his throat, keeping Takaya quiet.

 

“Sorry if it's not very good,” Ren starts with, eyes on their interlocked fingers now. “I had Chiyo-san teach me, but I'm not as good as her.” Takaya wants to scream at how overwhelmed he feels as he puts it on. Wants to tell Ren that it's perfect, he's perfect, and that it's the best gift he's ever gotten. Willing Ren to look up and let Takaya tell him. “I gave you the better one.”

 

_The better one._

 

**_The better one._ **

 

And now Abe can see a matching bracelet around Ren's left wrist. He's almost certain it wasn't there before, at the stadium or at karaoke. Ren must have put it on sometime whilst Takaya was struggling with unwrapping his own.

 

A matching pair. That Ren had made himself and wanted him to wear. That he apologized for, because he lacked the confidence in them being very good, when they were actually perfect.

 

That was it. That's what pushed him off the edge.

 

“I love you.”

 

He's tearing up, and his voice is broken by a sob as he repeats those three words he'd been playing with all day in the back of his mind. (For much longer than that, if he's being honest). “I love you, Ren.” Hoping that his words share even a fraction of the feelings he has for the other boy as he cries. Wiping away tears with his jacket sleeve even as Ren looks like he's going to cry too. Leaning close, his hand moving to thread through soft hair. Half a second before their lips collide, wet tears leaving trails down both of their cheeks. There's a new layer of something pushing them together after Takaya's declaration. There's a desperation to be closer, as close as they can get. Ren's tongue is in his mouth, and it's deeper and wetter than he could have ever imagined.

 

It feels like forever when they break apart; panting heavily, trying to settle their racing hearts. Ren looks ruffled, pink cheeks and face, not crying but eyes still catching the sparkle of the lights around them. Takaya's sure he looks the same.

 

Eyes sliding closed, he leans his forehead against Ren's. Whispering, as he can't trust his voice right now.

 

“Stay tonight, please.” He doesn't think about how it sounds; just knows what he's feeling in this moment. “Please; I don't want tonight to end.”

 

“O-OK.”

 

*

 

The futon is on the floor of his bedroom, but neither of them is in it. Ren is tucked up against him in bed, legs tangled together and arms around his boyfriend's waist. His room doesn't always get the strongest heating time of year, so it's warmer like this.

 

That's the excuse, at least.

 

It's close to midnight, and there's a quiet in the house – both his parents and Shun in bed and most likely asleep. Not that he was aware of that fact. Not at all.

 

He's in pajamas, and Ren's borrowing a shirt to sleep in. Both of them still wearing their bracelets. Takaya doubts he'll ever take his off; they don't have to worry about uniform at Nishiura, after all.

 

It's so quiet, that Takaya finds himself drifting off to the steady inhale-exhale of Ren. Relaxing into the comfortable closeness. He almost doesn't hear him.

 

“I wanted to say it first.”

 

Blinking slowly, he can see that Ren's looking at him. Eyes wide, despite the darkness. He's not sure if the darkness is giving the pitcher more confidence, or if he's grown comfortable and confident enough in their relationship today that there's no hint of anxiety or nervousness.

 

“I wanted to say it first, but I. I haven't said it back yet either.” Takaya's taking a while to understand as his brain is drowsy.

 

“Said what?”

 

“That I love you, too.”

 

“O-Oh,” Any sort of drowsiness he had is gone now, heart-stopping before starting up double-time. Acutely aware of the other teen in his arms. Ren settles in a little closer; close enough that his lips are touching softly against Takaya's collarbone.

 

Takaya's softly kissing his forehead, and Ren snuggles up a little more. Slipping into sleep after that as the long, emotional day finally catches up to him.  Lithe limbs tangled up in each other.

 

Takaya wishes that was as easy as it looked, willing himself to not ruin the calm with an erection.

 

***

 

They decide to go to a shrine halfway between their houses for their New Year's visit. It's not as crowded as if it had been on the 1st, so Ren feels confident in lacing his fingers with Takaya's. The few centimeters of snowfall that has stuck chills the area around them, and lends a quieted reverence to the scene.

 

They make their wishes and offer their prayers together; ringing the bell after Ren finishes his second wish on winning Koshien with the team. He's starting training with the rope pull again once classes start, even if their closest games aren't until spring.

 

He hadn't really wanted to draw their fortunes, he can't help feeling like he's already used up all his lifetime of luck – part of the baseball team (the ace!) and with more friends that he could have ever fathomed a year ago. And the best boyfriend he could ever imagine, by his side, smiling at Ren in a way that makes his insides melt, despite the cold. He ends up getting a Half Blessing; warnings about his studies and work, but strong positive luck for health and romance. Blushing hotly at the boy beside him, reading his own fortune. Ren finds himself smiling a little as he rereads his favorite part.

 

**_You have what you want. Keep them close._ **

**_Speak your heart, and only good things will come._ **

 

“I got a Small Blessing, what about you?”

 

“Half-Blessing,” showing his boyfriend the slip of paper. “I should go tie it up,” nodding towards the thousands of other fluttering paper fortunes tied to the tree just behind them, “my grades need help.” Huffing a little laugh, Takaya just nods; pocketing his own.

 

“Don't worry, Ren. Even if the gods don't help you study, I will.”

 

*

 

They didn't do well enough to be invited to the invitational games in March, so the Nishiura baseball team spends their time on focusing their mental training again. There's a good chance that they'll get some more team members once the new first years start, so the team dynamic will change again. It also means that for the first time since the team was formed, each member runs a real risk of being taken off as a regular.

 

Momokan has real aspirations to get them to Koshien this year, and to help with that has assigned both Ren and Takaya to work with her father more often. The older Momoe has been spending free weekends drilling them on form, and Ren's happy with how strong his windup has become, although he has yet to use it in a game.

 

He and Takaya spend the rest of their afternoons together; running through pitching forms, studying or just passing the time with a film. Yuu sometimes joins them, but the short cleanup has become much less worried about the late hours the Mihashis keep now, and has told Ren he doesn't want to 'intrude on their sex time', to Mihashi's constant embarrassment.

 

Because they're not having sex. It's still too soon, probably. They kiss, sure; and Takaya usually spends their relaxing curled around him, or with fingers carding through Ren's hair. But there's no rush for sex.

 

Even with his boyfriend's hand hot against his skin.

Even with all the warmth pooling in his stomach.

Even with his blood spiking against every touch Takaya gives, and heart beating overtime.

 

There's no rush.

 

(Unless Takaya wants to rush. But he doesn't know how to ask.)

 

It's just another lazy afternoon, already turning into early evening. They have some boring action film droning as white noise, but Ren has no idea what is going on. Takaya's large hand is moving mindlessly along Ren's upper arm, and the touch has him shivering up his spine. Head lolling to the side, drowsily resting on the other boy's shoulder, he can see the dark green eyes hooded in half-interest as they watch the screen. Closing his own eyes in contentment, Ren's smile grows, shifting enough that he can tangle their legs together even more.

 

He's just managed to lift his leg up to bend across the lap beside him when Takaya stills suddenly; his entire frame locking up against Ren's own. There's a tense moment when he considers pulling back again, but the strong hand on his thigh keeps him in place. It's only in the next moment that Ren realizes he's up against an unfamiliar hardness; his calf pressing along the tent in Takaya's pants. His boyfriend splotchy red in embarrassment.

 

“Sorry.” He's avoiding the look Ren's trying to give, but his heart has already picked up the pace even without eye-contact.

 

“It's. Don't be sorry.” There are things swirling in Ren's gut knowing that his boyfriend is hard against his leg, but none of them are bad. “I didn't know you wanted...”

 

“Of course I do, Ren,” half-choked like he can't believe he hadn't realized it. Head ducking even further, but ears still burning red. Even with his embarrassment, Takaya still hasn't moved either Ren's leg or his own hand. Tension building, Ren can't help how his gaze flits back to the tented fabric, biting his bottom lip. It's a chance.

 

Swallowing thickly, Ren gets closer, moving so he's up, over, sitting on his boyfriend's lap. The noise Takaya makes sounds like he's about to swallow his own tongue, but the pitcher just uses the momentary fluster to press his lips against the other boy's. Softening his jaw as they press into each other. Hands moving to hold Ren's hips as the kiss draws deeper.

 

Ren feels his legs shaking as he tries not to push too much weight on Takaya's lap, but it's hard to focus when he can feel himself stiffen too. Another shift of the hips and they're both shuddering, breaking the last of the kiss for Ren to catch his breath. Dark green eyes glassy as Takaya looks like he's floating, hazy.

 

“Taka, I want -” this. You. Everything. He doesn't say it, but he feels it.

 

“What?”

 

“I want what you want.” Voice small, shy. “It's OK.”

 

The hands on his hips jump a little at that. “OK.” Fingers grasping at the fabric of Ren's shorts, unexpectedly pushing their erections up against each other again. The tease is amazing, and he grinds back – fabric against fabric. Lips against his own again, tentative before getting stronger and more confident.

 

Ren has his arms looped around Takaya's shoulders, shivering at the feeling of warm hands moving underneath his shirt. Grinding down again so their erections brush, sharp inhale through his nose at it but not breaking apart. Shirt rumpling as they move.

 

Lips move from his, to the corner of his mouth, to dropping to his neck. Ren crumpling his fingers in the soft tee his boyfriend is wearing as his tongue moves across Ren's pulse. The zipper on his shorts is getting uncomfortable, and an embarrassingly long moan spills as the catcher focuses his hands on his ass. “Ren, do you...?”

 

“Please.” Half a whisper buried in Takaya's hair, but punctuated with a grind.

 

Both pairs of hands fumbling with buttons and zippers; muffled moans as they ease each other from their pants. Ren hesitates as his fingers linger at the thin fabric barrier of Takaya's underwear, nervous about touching his dick for the first time. Mouth going slack and mind going blank as his boyfriend takes him in hand without hesitation. It feels so good; so much like relief even though his blood is concentrating in his groin, making him harder.

 

Finally grabbing Takaya's cock, he moves his hand in a familiar way. Takaya spilling muted moans and Ren keening unbroken at the feeling. Hands hitting each other as they jerk faster; hips twitching and grinding.

 

“Ahhhh, Ren,” the strong voice he's so familiar with drawn out in a pitch he's never heard. The breathless arousal matching his own. Takaya's own hand a little firmer in response. “Ren, _fu_ -aahhh. Keep – keep going.”

 

It's barely been a minute, but he's already close; the mix of the feeling, their sounds, the knowledge that they're together doing this. Hips twitching even more desperately as Takaya twists his wrist in encouragement.

 

He's cumming with a shout into Takaya's cupped hand, warm release dripping a little. Even though he can feel his own hand getting a little limp after his own release, Ren keeps moving until his boyfriend hits his own peak – silent cry as he spills over both of their hands.

 

Slumping relaxed into each other, Ren feels boneless. It's different from just masturbating on his own; so much more when he can hear Takaya's breath in his ear, his skin against the other's. Lying on the floor, movie forgotten, hands cleaned up with a stray sock that had been abandoned next to his bed. Another kiss is pressed to his mouth, softly; knuckles brushing against his cheek as Ren blinks sleepily at his boyfriend. The moment stretching longer, and Takaya smiling, then laughing quietly. Pulling Ren closer so he can snuggle into the junction of his neck and shoulder.

 

“Why did we wait so long to do that?”

 

It breaks the tension of how things may have changed, and Ren feels even warmer in their embrace. He didn't know it was possible to feel like this – heart full to the brim and spilling with happiness.

 

“No idea.”

 

***

 

Second year starts quite differently than first, but he had still spent the break before the new semester working on the baseball grounds. It's a much easier job, of course, with more people helping, and much less work to do, but it still takes up a good portion of the week to get everything perfect after the colder months.

 

He's in a different class then Ren again; but Hanai, Mizutani and now Oki are all his classmates. Ren still has Izumi, but Tajima is in a different class with Suyama and Nishihiro. They all meet for lunch in any case now, though, so things haven't really changed, aside from Yuu bemoaning how dull his classes are now without Ren.

 

They take shifts on who will stand at the entrance for the first week, trying to convince first years to join the team. Joining a club isn't compulsory, but they're hoping that there'll be enough middle school players who want to continue into high school.

 

So it's a sunny Tuesday morning that he finds himself handing out fliers to a steady stream of first years next to Sakaeguchi. It feels wrong being in his gear outside of the diamond, but Chiyo had said it would appeal to newcomers if they were in uniform. It seems like every other club had the same idea (sports or otherwise). There are loud shouts consuming the area, and the Judo recruiters give another overwhelming yell, scaring another wave of new students. Takaya's ready to be done, but it's another 10 minutes before they can pack up.

 

“Had any luck?” Takaya almost jumps out of his skin at the sudden voice beside him, but Ren just blinks back owlishly as he smiles. The tension in his frame slips away almost as quickly as it had come, and Takaya can feel himself smile back.

 

“Not really,” looking at the stack of club forms in his hands. “I think Hanai did better yesterday.”

 

The pitcher just tilts his head as he thinks, expression changing in a way that Takaya can only describe as cute. “You have a strong voice,” like that is a valid reason for him to attract more people.

 

“He's also scary-looking, Ren,” Sakaeguchi, that traitor, follows up with. “All those poor first years are too afraid to get close. Stop frowning and we may just get some people joining,” shit-eating grin as he loops his arm around both of their shoulders.

 

“Still the only one who can get a date.”

 

“That's because Ren is a saint; it doesn't count.” Secretly, Takaya has to agree. He doesn't deserve the boy he's nearly nose-to-nose with in their improvised huddle. Sakaeguchi ignores that to keep talking. “You need to stop looking like you just swallowed a lemon.”

 

It's not an unusual tease; Takaya huffing his muted annoyance as he pulls back out of the arm around his shoulder. Shuffling to dodge the elbow directed his way by the other vice-captain.

 

“I don't think – you're not,” half a sentence saying more than anything Takaya could try to string together. One of Ren's hands going to Takaya's in support. The third wheel just rolls his eyes; knowing smirk as he leans to whisper in Takaya's ear.

 

“See? A saint.”

 

*

 

The first practice has a dozen new students circled around Momokan, shocked as she squeezes an orange to pulp in each hand, just like she had their first practice.

 

The group of 15-year-olds look so small, skinny and shrinking into themselves in front of the female coach. None of them are as tall as Hanai was last year either, and the second years had all grown considerably in the recent months. It's a little amazing to consider how much had changed in a year.

 

Each of them introduces themselves, but it'll take a while before Takaya remembers any of their names. Ren looks a little perplexed, and the rest of the team doesn't look much better. He can see Shino'oka ticking off names down a list from the corner of his eye, and Momokan just nods in happiness.

 

“OK, newbies! Ten laps, and then I want you to observe your senpai for the rest of practice.” There are far fewer groans than the catcher is expecting, but that may be due to the fear instilled by the older woman. Just shrugs as he goes to gear up; Ren following behind to help. They have group meditation to get to.

 

*

 

It's a thrill being able to catch Ren's pitches, even now. His accuracy has gotten back to his previous 9-square grid, and Takaya wants to weep at how proud he is. His sweet boyfriend finally managing to fully utilize his ball control with the speed he's been building throughout the past year. Thud after satisfying thud echoing in his glove as each pitch hits square.

 

The steady panting of the crowd of first years pass by as Ren sends another ball to the middle left side; a perfect curveball just in the strike zone. They grin at each other, and he sends the ball back. Bracelet moving around his wrist as he throws.

 

It's another 20 pitches before some of the first years come back again – finished running, but ready to watch the pitching practice. Takaya can't help wondering if there's a catcher in the crowd; if there's a pitcher in the crowd. Hopes they watch their battery and understand that there's no way any middle school upstart is taking either of their spots. Pushes Ren to pitch to tricky corners and variation in rapid succession – the flair of excitement in his expression even across the bullpen.

 

They finish up the remaining pitches til they hit 200, and it's obvious that Ren's kept up with his practice pitches, and probably hasn't stuck to his rest days as much as Takaya always warns him to. There's half of a chastise sitting at the tip of his tongue about pushing himself too much; but he needs to remember that they're working back into regular practices, so he'll forgive Ren the over-eagerness for now.

 

The blood is just coming back to his legs as he stands from his crouch, when one of the first years crowds up to his boyfriend. Ren looks like he's just de-aged a year, flustering around like he can't breathe – blinking over to Takaya like he's swallowed his tongue. Jogging over, he hopes he can help.

 

“My team saw you play Tosei in the summer,” eyes glittering like he's seeing that game again play out in front of them. “It was an amazing game, Mihashi-senpai.”

 

The impact of that is instantaneous, and Takaya can already see how stupidly happy Ren is, with a loopy smile and pleased flush, nodding to the younger boy, and it makes the catcher's heart swell. Takaya takes the opportunity to ruffle soft hair with both hands once he gets close, so much that his boyfriend squirms and bows his head against the touch with a happy huff.  Enough to make Abe crack his own grin, turning to the confused first year once he's happy with Ren's reaction.

 

“What's your name?” Takaya can see the moment that the other boy realizes he's being spoken to, and straightens up his stance.

 

“Bando, senpai. Um, Bando Toshiya.” He's a couple inches shorter, and brown eyes shine nervously. “I used to pitch for Doshi Middle School; we got to the fourth round in the summer tournament.”

 

Takaya's not that familiar with the middle school teams, as he'd spent his time in seniors. “You must be pretty good then.”

 

“We had a good team, uh...”

 

“Abe.”

 

“Abe-senpai.” Squaring shoulders as he smiles more confidently. “We were the best.”

 

Takaya can understand this kid – Bando – and the confidence; he hadn't been much different himself when getting to Nishiura; truly believed that he knew all he needed to be the best. He's matured since then (hopefully).

 

“Well, I hope to see you pitch sometime then;” ignoring the panicked squeak of Ren as he can feel him overthinking things. Reacting to the moment even though he knows Takaya will always regard him as the ace (and if he doesn't, he'll make sure to remind him, as much as he needs). “But it'll be a tough fight getting Ren off the mound,” punctuating with what is, hopefully, his most intimidating smile. His boyfriend shooting up in fixed posture beside him.

 

And if he took some satisfaction from how pale the kid turned, that was his secret.

 

(Even if Sakaeguchi exasperatedly told him to play nice afterward.)

 

***

 

Spring practice games are already lined up for the end of April and beginning of May before the summer tournament. The rotation has the first-years in first string, pushing the newcomers into proper gameplay. Ren will still pitch for as long as he can, but Oki and new member Bando will be also be taking the mound in early innings. Nishiura has to strengthen its entire team if they want to win the Koshien competition, and Ren has been spending each practice working on his bunting. He's been getting tips from Momoe and Sakaeguchi; the co-vice-captain showing him how to angle the bat to avoid popping the ball up.

 

They have a stronger team compared to last year with the inclusion of all the first years. Only one had quit from the group that signed up the first week, but in the remaining group they gained an additional pitcher and catcher as well as two members from a strong local team. From across the field, Takaya is showing Shimura their newest pitcher how he drops his mitt for a curveball.

 

Takaya will be coming over for the evening again. Ren’s parents are both coming home late, as usual, but there's curry on the stove and he's hopeful they can spend some time playing catch in the backyard afterward. It's not proper practice and won't strain his arm, but it's a familiar comfort of falling into the steady rhythm of back and forth. They've both gotten better at speaking to each other, but with a baseball between them, they don't need any extra words.

 

The first years have been practicing hard to make first string, and both Bando and Shimura are good enough to play in regular games, but everyone knows that Ren is the team's ace, and Takaya can play every game (barring another injury) no problem. They're a powerful battery, and he can't wait to show off how much they've improved since last summer.

 

He used to think that he was the one who had to struggle alone to get better after not playing for so long.  To improve enough that he’d be confident to pitch any ball in any game, just so long as Abe would tell him the pitch.  Only in the past year, past 6 months, had Ren realized that they were stronger together as a team.  That Takaya was growing too, changing too.  That that’s what a true battery was; teammates trusting in each other to not only work hard together, but challenging each other too.  The newest members were still working on the complete trust part – and Ren was sure that if he had to pitch to Shimura, there’d be few problems – but it wouldn’t be the same.  That he’d miss the motivated smile behind the mitt.  Dark green eyes working over problems as batters tried to hit the pitches.  The crinkle in his brow a telling sign that he’s getting annoyed with a batter.

 

They understand each other.

 

It’ll win them the summer.  Ren has a good feeling.

 

*

 

The game they’re watching seems like it’ll be over pretty soon.  Summer matches have already started and Nishiura has come out to scope their potential opponents.

 

They’ve already won their first round game, so they’ll be playing whoever wins this matchup.  Izumi’s complaining about the heat as he tries to position himself in Hanai’s shadow – legs inadvertently kicking at Oki as he shifts.  Shino’oka is marking down the scores in another workbook, with Mizutani flustering between cross-checking her previous notes and giving furtive glances to the girl beside him. The first years arguing amongst themselves as the innings stretch longer into the afternoon.

 

Ren’s side-by-side with Takaya, knees knocking together whenever either shift.  Normally Takaya would have an arm hanging over his shoulders as they leant into each other as they talked – a casual touch that Ren has found himself more familiar with than when it’s missing – but the summer heat has rolled in early this season, so he keeps it to just an arm wrapped lightly around Ren’s waist, hand on his hip.  

 

Tajima wolf-whistles at them from somewhere behind, and Takaya weakly throws an empty water bottle towards their friend, which the shorter boy dodges with ease.  An unsuspecting Hase, their first-year reserve shortstop, having the empty bottle bounce off of his chest and to his feet.  Tajima just shrugging before plonking himself on Ren’s other side; grinning cheekily before crowding close, smelling of sweat.

 

“You two are so cheesy, y’know.”  Fond huff accompanying it.  He’d said the same thing after borrowing Ren’s phone last week; a picture of the two from their most recent date – sunset glittering off the river as they’re huddled close – as his phone background.

 

He can feel Takaya shrugging beside him as the three settle into their usual banter.  Pointing out the weaknesses in the winning team’s pitching, batting, defense, as the 7th inning starts.

 

“Their starting pitcher has a pretty far-moving slider; you think you can get it?”

 

“Timing seems easy.  It’s pretty obvious when he’s going to throw it too – rolls his shoulders back.”

 

“Make sure to tell Hanai too,” catcher nodding towards their captain who is absorbed in conversation with Momokan.  “And Suyama.  This guy doesn’t have a bunch of breaking balls, so it’ll be an easy win if you guys can be confident hitting.”

 

“Yes, Mom,” rolling his eyes, used to the other boy’s tone.  Stretching his back, he focuses back to Ren with a smile.  “We still good to go to yours later?”  Grinning even wider when Ren nods eagerly.  “Usually it’d be fine at mine, but with the new baby, everyone’s pretty busy.”

 

“It’s fine, Yuu,” glad to have the team over after the game.  “Mom made curry again, and we have watermelon.”

 

Smiling a little more when his best friend whoops in excitement, jumping up to relay the good news of food to the rest of the teens.

 

The arm around his waist tightens a little.  Ren feels himself melt a little, and not only from the sun overhead.  Can see his boyfriend smile, even as he keeps his eyes trained on the game.

 

He’s confident they’ll win their next game, regardless who wins this one.

 

*

 

They've been dating for a while now, so it makes sense that Takaya would want to take things further. Farther than when they kiss each other goodbye when they part ways walking home, farther than the casual comfort they lay in when they're bundled in front of the TV watching a movie or rival teams' footage, heads on shoulders, limbs tangled. Farther than the parentless afternoons where they've touched each other soft, hard, burning blush and moaning names.

 

It makes sense that the next step is sex, but. But it doesn't mean Ren feels totally prepared for it.

 

He's thought a lot about it, of course; but the idea of actually uh, doing it, seems way too intimidating. Doesn't know if he wants something going well, um, in him... Sure that it will go wrong somehow and he'd ruin everything. And it's worse because they've talked about it; because they agreed to it and it shouldn't feel like he's being backed into a corner when they've both been planning for it.

 

It's not something he feels that he should be worrying about; with a boyfriend as great as Takaya, he knows he'll look after him. That he doesn't deserve to worry when he knows it's probably really normal between two guys, and he wants to make his boyfriend happy. But just, just...! He's not sure he's ready. Does he want to have sex with Takaya? Yes, oh god, yes. That's not an issue. Does he want to have sex with him right now? Well... he's not totally against it; he just needs to be in the right mindset.

 

Probably.

 

It's not exactly the right time to mention that now, though, with Takaya having taken off his shirt, tongues intertwined, hands warm and strong against his hips, massaging.

 

They're in his room; his house empty aside from them until his Mom gets back from the university. Late afternoon sun streams through his windows, painting the surrounds in stripes of orange and yellow perfectly matching the heat he can feel between their bodies. When they break away from the kiss he can see his boyfriend blushing, red cheeks bright; but even in his apparent embarrassment, his eyes are so soft, looking down at him – smile on his face as a hand brushes brown hair back.

 

“Hey.” Voice low and honeyed, half a smile twisting up the left side of his mouth.

 

“Hey.” Ren's throat feeling like a desert; dry and cracking as he tries to reign in the confusing mix of arousal and panic that washes over him.

 

They should be bone-tired – through to their fourth round of the summer tournament, and practice almost every day that they aren’t competing – but the tension and heat in the room, and between them keep their adrenaline high.  Heart beating fast as hands move up his side.

 

He wants to do this – he wants to, and seeing Takaya like this it really feels like they should. He can feel the strong muscle of the other's leg between his, and he's close enough to see the darkest ring of green in his eyes. There's enough to make his heart beat harder – and he's sure he can just stop overthinking it once things get started. Fingertips brush lightly just beneath his waistband and he jumps at the touch, sharp intake at the surprise. The sudden jerk catches his boyfriend's attention, eyes moving back to his face. Eyebrows pulling together a little.

 

“Are you OK, Ren? Nervous?” Those warm eyes studying his expression, like he’s trying to read Ren’s mind. Traveling fingers moving back to run across the muscles in his back, and Ren exhales in momentary relief. A soft kiss, the pitcher can feel every one of his nerves growing tingly under the soft trails of Takaya's fingertips. “Me too.”

 

“N-no, I, uh. Don't worry.”

 

“Ren?”

 

He pushes his hips up to move against his boyfriend – hoping their shared gasp is enough to distract from the way his breathing is growing uneven. Pulling Takaya's hands back to where they were at his waistband; eyes moving down trying to avoid the other's concerned look.

 

“Hey,” Mihashi's hands shaking as he struggles with the zipper of the other boy's pants. “Hey! What's wrong?”

 

Ren can’t tell if he’s said anything back yet.  The heat in the room seems uncomfortably high now.  Strong hands on his shoulders as Ren tries to catch his breath.  Panic clenching hard in his gut.

 

“It’s stupid.”

 

“I still want to know.”  Green eyes sharpening as his boyfriend starts to focus a little more outside of the feeling of skin against skin.  Blinking slowly as Ren struggles to form an adequate answer, tripping over his tongue.

 

“J-just,” hands bunched against the denim of his pants, sucking in a deep breath as he keeps his eyes down.  “Do whatever you want; I.  I’ll get used to it, and it’ll.  You’ll like it?”  Stomach clenching again in panic as he sees Takaya frown a little more at that.  “I-I mean!  I don’t – um, no, that’s wrong – I can’t.  Just, it’s better if you don’t worry about me.”

 

“Of course I’m going to worry about you; you’re my boyfriend, Ren.”

 

They’re still half-undressed, but the thick tension from before has dissipated as the mood moves from aroused to concerned.  The afternoon sun is nearly gone now, with gray light of evening breaking through the blinds.

 

“Ignore me, I’m just being stupid – overly nervous.”

 

“Ren, stop saying that.”  Hardness to his voice forcing Ren to finally look him in the eye.   “It’s important you tell me what you’re thinking; this sort of thing, we both – it needs to be something we talk about.”

 

‘We already talked about it, though,” voice dying quietly in the room.  If Takaya doesn’t salvage the earlier mood then Ren would have ruined everything, like he feared.

 

“We can still talk about it, Ren.  Sex is,” blush creeping up to the other boy’s ears, even as his voice stays strong, “I want us to both enjoy it; all of it.”

 

“I w-will.”

 

“But you’re not right now.”  Parsing the things Ren can’t find the words to say.

 

“Once y-you.  When it feels good, I’m sure -”

 

“I’m not forcing myself on you, Ren!  How could you think -”

 

“But we’ve wanted to for a long time!  You, you said -”

 

“Not if you’re not ready, Ren,” exasperation mixing with hurt.  Voice getting just slightly angrier as frustration at the argument pulls his expression down.  “I’m not that desperate, god.”

 

The large hand that had been moving softly down Ren’s back before now moves to cover Takaya’s eyes; taking a second to think through the problem.

 

“Did you just agree to this because you thought I wanted to?”  New revelation making him rigid, and Ren can see him over-analyzing again to get to the worst possible conclusion.

 

“No, no, no, no, Takaya, no, I want to.  I do.  I did.”  Grasping frantically at broad shoulders, pulling himself up to get closer.

 

“Then talk to me now, Ren.  Please trust me.”

 

Eyes wide, Ren can’t help but lean close; heart hurting when he thinks about what Takaya is implying.  That Ren doesn’t trust him.

 

“I do trust you.”

 

“I want you to trust me here as much as you trust me on the mound.  As your boyfriend as well as your catcher.”  There’s hurt in his voice, layered with the concern that’s radiating from him.

 

It hits Ren in that moment that Takaya is right in what he’s saying; that somewhere deep that he hadn’t realized, Ren was keeping things back from his boyfriend in order not to worry him, or annoy him, or disappoint him.  He never wanted to give Takaya a reason to end their relationship.

 

“Sorry.  I didn’t realize,” throat choking tight.  Pain at his temples as he fights the rising need to hide.

 

“Hey, don’t cry,” those familiar hands squeezing his own as Ren feels salty tears fall despite his best efforts.  Takaya brushes a kiss to his cheek.  “I just want to be with you.  I want you to be able to tell me anything.  You're allowed to say no to me, Ren; like when you shake off my signs.”

 

“I’m sorry.  I’m.  I’m overthinking all of it.  It might hurt, and I just can’t stop thinking about it.  I’m sort of,”  Ren hesitating as he feels Takaya hold his breath.  “Scared.”

 

The squeeze of Takaya’s hands gets fractionally harder, before letting go completely.  Ren’s stomach drops until he’s pulled into his boyfriend’s embrace; warm skin against his own making him realize just how cold he had gotten.  Sitting this close, there’s a softness across Takaya’s face – kind and caring and everything Ren fell in love with a year ago.

 

“I want you – us – to be ready, Ren,” his panic has dissipated from before, and Takaya keeps his voice as steady as he can, even as Ren shivers at his words.  “There’s no time limit on this.”

 

“I don’t want to hold us back.”  Whispered into the junction between neck and shoulder.  He’s not sure if he wants his boyfriend to have heard.  Gulps a little when Takaya gives a strangled noise in response.  “I don’t want you to hate me.”

 

“I couldn’t; I love you.”  Pulling Ren even closer to him, the pitcher can feel the rumble of his boyfriend’s voice against him.  “Something like this would never change that.  I don’t know anything that could,” shaky kiss to his shoulder.

 

Ren pulls back against the strong arms around him, secure but not confining, enough that they’re face-to-face again.  He doesn’t know if he’ll ever completely get over his self-confidence issues, but right now he feels sure in what he does.  “Thank you,” kissing Takaya with as much as he can muster, wanting to pour everything he’s feeling into the other teen.  It’s deep.  It fills them both.  “I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t be.  I’m the one who should be sorry.”

 

Shaking his head in disagreement, Ren’s kissing him again, relaxing completely against the strong frame of his boyfriend as thumbs circle lazily on his hips – no pressure to the touch.  “I love you.”

 

“I love you, too.”

 

There’s no heat to their kissing, and the afternoon has completely disappeared from outside.  They won’t go farther than this today, but he’s gained a little hope about the conversation they’ll be having after this.

 

But first, kissing takes priority.

 

***

 

Miraculously, they’re halfway through the bottom of the seventh, three runs ahead, Tajima and first-year Ooyama on base with Hanai up to bat.  Sweat runs down his face as he sits in the dugout, enthralled by watching how their cleanup will handle the pitcher from Hokkaido; two rounds into the Koshien competition where the best in the country are fighting for the legendary win.

 

Ren has only been pitching for the past two innings, but the pressure to keep the other team's batters swinging at air is already starting to settle – Takaya’s boyfriend sitting quietly on the benches, icing his shoulder.  Three of the first years helping the ace cool down before the start of the eighth.

 

Momokan hasn't moved from her spot on the edge of the dugout for the entire game, and even now it's obvious she's mentally going over plays; they'll be stuck with fielding practice if they manage to get through this – early innings had a few fumbles before the first years got into the rhythm of the game.

 

The summer sun is sweltering, but even from here it's obvious that the Hokkaido team is worse for wear under the oppressive heat.  Takaya sucks at the water bottle he's nursing as the crowd cheers again in support.  Can only imagine Hamada’s energy in the stands above.

 

It's a screwball, the pitcher's most comfortable breaking ball.  There's confidence in how he throws it, and Takaya can tell that the catcher had set this up – to bring off the pressure of two runners and cleanup.  It wasn't a wrong choice, but ball control seems to be flagging in the heat, so it slides into a ball as Hanai just sits, waiting for the next pitch.  Abe's feeling bad for the guy on the mound.

 

The next is a fastball, and it flies past the outfielders as Hanai slams it.  Three more runs for Nishiura, and it's not the end of the game, but it feels like they've won.

 

A strikeout of first-year Mishima and Oki popping a fly means the end of the inning; Takaya pulling on his gear as the rest of the team scramble, switching to gloves.  Readjusting his catcher's mask, he notices the diamond dirt muddying the white of his bracelet, stopping to take another look.  He'll have to give it another clean tonight before bed – games always leaving it dirty.

 

Heading to the stairs, Ren is waiting just at the top; blinking as Takaya grows closer, grabbing his hand in both of his.

 

“Take it easy; we can win this.”  Brown eyes sparkling in response.  “They won't be able to hit you.”

 

The twin to his own bracelet sits on its owner's wrist, and both of their eyes are drawn to the pair.

 

“We can win this!”

 

Nodding in agreement, Takaya squeezes his boyfriend's hand one last time before heading to the catcher's box, not wanting the ref to hurry them up.

 

Crouching low, mitt at the ready, the first to bat is the other team’s third baseman – a hard-hitter that waited for inside balls.  Ren’s ‘fastball’ would be perfect.  Signing for the fastball, Takaya’s heart flutters at the grin he receives back.  It's been months since Ren's shaken his head to a sign, but rather than the reliance it had been early in their first year, it’s thanks to their mutual understanding – both knowing each other's reasoning and game flow.  Ren moving into his windup before letting the ball free.  Perfect form, even in this heat.  The batter swings and misses as the ball drops; satisfying thud of the ball in his mitt as Takaya catches it.

 

“Strike.”

 

Ren's smile is contagious.

 

*

 

The rumors start after the magazine interview they did after their last game.  

 

Losing in the third round of Koshien stings, but their improvement from the year before is all the motivation they need to again aim for winning Koshien next year.   They had stumbled off the grounds after a dissatisfying defeat against Tokyo’s Takamata Academy, where they hadn't quite been able to shake early lost runs.  The magazine – Baseball Monthly – had interviewed them; Hanai answering as much as he could before Momokan took over.  Nishiura was, is, hot news: a team with no third years surviving so long in the Koshien competition; the team only formed last year; a female coach who ran the team with more variation than the major schools; an ace pitcher that had top schools goaded into full strikeouts.

 

They hadn't said anything about the battery at the time, but with zoomed in photos of Ren's homemade bracelets accompanying their player profiles, rumors had started about an unstoppable battery that was so in sync they didn't need signs.  It was ridiculous, of course, but with Ren never shaking his head in any of the season’s games, it only added fuel to the fire.

 

Takaya was worried about this newest pressure and how his boyfriend would handle it; but aside from an embarrassed flush at having his handiwork on focus in a magazine, he was fine.  Even explaining to a few classmates that he had made them when asked where they had bought them.  People had noticed before, but the interest level had shot through the roof.  Even he was getting self-conscious from all the attention, so Ren's calmness was surprising.  Takaya even told him after practice ended and a group of first years watching practice had finally dissipated, Ren just half-heartedly shrugging before saying, “as long as we know the meaning, it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks.”

 

Takaya had almost kissed him right then and there, in front of the whole team.

 

Instead, he hugs him strongly as Tajima wolf-whistles yet again somewhere to their side.  Sakaeguchi telling the first years to stop slacking and start collecting balls if they wanted to go home anytime soon.

 

*

 

Mid-semester exam results are posted the same day that the baseball team decides on their training regimen for the end of the year.  Bando has been working hard to fill his potential as their first pitcher after his fumbles during summer, and the autumn games were a big improvement.  Momoe-san has moved both him and Ren into rope pulls and rest days over the break until spring, Takaya promising his boyfriend to help keep his control perfect with limited practice pitches.

 

The exam results aren't unexpected, and Takaya will probably get an earful from his father for letting his rank slip almost ten places, but Ren has only improved since the first year – making it to the top 50 for the first time in his high school career.  He's no academic genius, but it's a huge achievement and welcome reward for all of his hard work studying.

 

Training camp starts tomorrow, and it brings back memories of his knee injury from last year. He’s perfectly fine now, but the short week he had spent with Mihashi between the doctor, breakfast duties, and cleanup were probably the most important in realizing that he wanted more than just the hot-blooded attraction he felt with Ren.  That way back then his subconscious had realized he loved him.

 

They're on breakfast duty again this year.  They spend lunch going over previous meal plans, adjusting slightly now that they're feeding over 20 people and Ren's culinary skills have improved (Takaya's, he can admit, have not).  The last part of their team training today will be spent checking over them with Shino’oka and Coach Momoe to make sure everything fits within Shiga-sensei’s nutrition plans.  The amount of rice they plan to make for the week could probably feed an army, but they burn through the carbs before they even hit their stomach usually.  Takaya can hear the echoes of Tajima’s “more”’s already.

 

It’s another week spent in the run-down lodging, with the first and second years cramped together in two rooms.  Here’s hoping they bring some heaters this time; this close to winter, Takaya’s almost certain it’ll be freezing otherwise.  And waking up to cook will be even harder when it’s dark out and numbingly cold; like when he walks home from Ren’s after his parents get home.  Nothing breaks simmering arousal and romantic fantasies faster than sub-5°C temperatures.  It’s probably not a good idea to be too distracting or get too distracted in the kitchen.

 

It won’t stop him from trying, though.

 

***

 

“Happy Birthday!!!”  Voices of the Abes loud enough that Ren worries his own voice doesn’t come through.

 

Takaya’s smile is warm, glowing in the candlelight as the birthday song is led by his little brother.  Crowded around the dining table where his boyfriend’s favorite foods are half-finished, including the tonkatsu Ren made with the help of Mama Abe.

 

She cuts into the cake now, strawberry shortcake, as Shun snaps a bunch of photographs with all of their phones; crowding the three of them together before taking a selfie.  The flash going off and then he feels an arm going around him as the younger Abe moves back to take a photo of both he and Takaya – smiling to the camera, one where Ren is half-laughing from the tickle of gentle fingers on his side, another of Taka kissing the corner of his mouth in a blurry, happy mess.

 

“Thanks again for coming,” right hand squeezing Ren’s left.  “Today has been the best.”

 

“You asked me, so of course I'd come,” not hiding his smile.  Taka looks like he’s just caught the ball before runner makes it to home.  Pink ears bright enough to distract Ren from whatever he was going to say next.

 

“Can I have my present now?  You’ve kept me waiting for so long,” half-whining as his mother chastises him for being impatient.  The gift Ren brought sitting proudly wrapped in the corner, bulky.  He’d seen it in the store window and bought it right away.  It took all his allowance, but it had been worth it.  The other part of his gift was infinitely cheaper but needs all his courage to give.  He packed them together.

 

Retrieving Taka’s gift, he gives it to him with another ‘Happy Birthday’.  With barely a second passing, the blue paper wrapping is gone and instead sits the soft woolen sweater Ren had given him.  His boyfriend had bemoaned how his mother had shrunk his favorite last month, so the replacement had seemed an obvious gift.  Takaya lifts it higher to see the fit and grins to Ren after giving it a once-over.

 

“You always give the best gifts, Ren,” hands running over the close knit.  “This is much nicer than my old one.”

 

“Y-you should try it on.”

 

“Good idea, Ren.  Go on Taka, go and change,” Takaya's mother ushering her oldest son upstairs.  Ren couldn’t be happier with how things are playing out, having risked extreme embarrassment if things had gone any other way.

 

It’s a couple minutes before Takaya comes back down, bright red, but wearing the sweater.  Green eyes slide to him, but his boyfriend says nothing before turning to his family.  Somewhat pained smile as his mother coos at how handsome he looks.  Complimenting Ren on his choice.

 

After another round of photographs, Taka leans close, warm.  A heavy look that makes his stomach flip, and  Ren can already feel himself blushing, knowing that his boyfriend found his second gift.  They sit awkwardly on the couch together for another half hour as more gifts are unwrapped and tea is served.  Ren stays quiet, but that’s not that unusual, and no one notices despite how loud his thoughts seem.

 

It seems like forever before his boyfriend stands from the couch, hand out to help Ren up too.  Mama Abe is clearing up the cups from the coffee table; having already sent her husband and youngest son to packing away the leftovers in the other room and doing the dishes.  Takaya getting a break from his usual chores thanks to his birthday.

 

“We’re going up to hang out in my room for a bit; there’s a new CD I borrowed I think Ren’ll like,” squeezing their interlinked hands a little tighter when his mother just smiles and nods.  Takaya nearly dragging Ren upstairs in his haste.

 

The door closes behind them with a heavy click, and Taka leans back against the solid wood, even as he hugs Ren close.  Kissing him hard and moaning softly, one hand in his hair, the other solid at the small of his back.  Tongue sliding heatedly against his own as they keep kissing – Ren pushing himself closer, closer, closer.  Hand moving down to find the waistband of Taka’s jeans.

 

They break apart at that, panting hard, and Ren can see the green eyes of his boyfriend dark with arousal.

 

“Ren, I can’t believe you,” smile curling up as he still tries to catch his breath.  “What if that had fallen out in front of my family?”

 

“I used a safety pin.”  He had been pretty confident that that wouldn’t happen.  “I made sure you could only find it when you were trying it on.”

 

Another heavy look as Takaya seems to look for something in his expression.  Ren’s not nervous about this; biting his lip a little coyly, and smiling wider when the catcher groans.

 

“So.  Can I have it now?”

 

“I was hoping so.”  Blushing again.  “There’s a reason I gave it to you today and not Christmas.”

 

“So I don’t get anything for Christmas?”

 

“I didn’t stay that.”

 

“ _God,_ Ren.”

 

Moving his hand to his pocket, Taka retrieves the colored piece of card and brings it up to read it out; Ren’s shaky handwriting.  Four words that make both their blood run hot. _Gift 2: oral sex_.  He didn’t want to be anything but entirely clear in his intentions.

 

There’s a heavy moment before anything happens, until Ren moves his hand to drift across the tent of Takaya’s pants, his own erection growing as his hips grind a little against his boyfriend’s thigh.

 

“Are you sure about this Ren?  I don’t want to -”  Voice cutting out as Mihashi finally zips his fly open; boxers already being gently pressed against his hand.

 

He drops to his knees; pulling the denim of his boyfriend’s pants a little farther as he reaches to free the now-familiar cock, thick in his hand. The crown dark and sensitive.  Ghosting a breath along the tip as he stares, licking his lips as it jerks a little.  Licking softly with the flat of his tongue.

 

Taka curses loudly before clamping both hands over his mouth.  The rest of his family is still downstairs hopefully, but it’s reassuring that he’s trying to keep quiet regardless.

 

Slowly stroking the length by his face, foreskin moving with his hand as Taka moans into his palm. Darting his tongue to lap at the ridge of his exposed head on the down stroke, the sudden jerk of his boyfriend’s hips in response collides his nose further down the shaft; he can’t help but giggle a little, pleased – deciding in that moment to move to nose at his base; licking soft skin between stomach and groin and between groin and scrotum.  His hand is still stroking, and Ren glances up to see Takaya’s face.  Green eyes hazy, entirety of his face not obstructed by his hands dark pink in blush.  Ren sucking a little at the base with his lips in encouragement, a strangled noise deep in the standing boy’s throat as he does.

 

Moving back again so he’s looking at the tip, he finally takes the head into his mouth, keeping his lips tight around.  Tongue running up underneath as he shifts in time with his hand’s jerking.  Hips twitching again, not far enough to affect what Ren’s concentrating on, and it’s obvious that Takaya is trying to stop himself from pushing too far, even though it feels good.  It makes Ren’s heart flutter.

 

Pulling back so only the head of his cock is between his lips, he sucks hard – the thick length getting even harder as it jerks in response.  Pushing the heel of his free hand against his own erection, he moans around his boyfriend; another smothered curse as an abortive thrust pushes the cock a little farther into his mouth.  He sucks again and Takaya moans.  Tongue wet with the saliva and precum building in his mouth that he can’t quite swallow down.

 

It seems like his boyfriend is slipping down the door a little as his legs shake, moving his hands from his mouth to pant out his name in a low voice.

 

“Re-Ren, I’m.  I’m so close,” head dropping so his chin hits his chest as he pants.  “I’m so close, so -”

 

He sucks harder, twisting his wrist in the way he knows his boyfriend is weak to and moans again.  It’s calculated, but it’s satisfying to feel the shaking of Takaya’s thighs; the heady taste of cum in his mouth; his name strangled down in Taka’s throat as he hits his peak.

 

Mouth full of release, he keeps his hand stroking slowly until he’s done.  Pulling back, he kisses the tip before letting go finally.  Shocked as his boyfriend slumps down to the ground too, spent but satisfied, surging forward so that they’re kissing again.  Tongue pushing into his mouth, despite the fact Ren hasn’t fully swallowed the bitter taste of Takaya.  Mingling with each other so they’re sharing the taste and moaning together.  It’s a surprisingly arousing development, only emphasized by strong hands freeing his own erection, finally.

 

He cums hard with Takaya sucking his tongue; one hand in his hair and the other jerking him roughly, wet with precum.  He’s on his back, boyfriend leaning close over him, legs spread over his hips.  Eyes rolling back as he moans, he whites out with the taste and feel of his boyfriend surrounding him.

 

Slumping to the side once it’s finally over, they break apart to breathe – no longer at risk of making too much noise.  Ren blinks slowly as he settles into the feel of afterglow, gulping as he watches the other teen licking his hand.  Cuddling close, they shift so Takaya can loop both arms around him; head tucking close to his neck and Ren snuggles as close as he can.

 

Settling his breathing so that they’re in sync, Ren lets his eyes close.

 

“How was it?”

 

“God, Ren,” groaning as he pulls him closer.  Still-exposed cocks brushing against the fabric of each other’s pants making them both shiver in sensitivity.  “If you keep doing things like this, I’ll never want you to stop.”

 

“Good,” smiling as his boyfriend jerks back to look at his face.  The dark pupils of Takaya’s eyes dilating in interest.

 

It’s not like he wants to stop.

 

*

 

His mother is sorting through the stack of New Year's cards that were delivered, three stacks growing on the side table.  His dad has already started eating the festive food arranged in the living room, the sounds of the television filling the house with the end of year programming.  She smiles as she gets to the end of her sorting, handing over Ren’s stack before taking the rest to the other room.

 

There are more than he expects; Kano and his cousins in Gunma; Shino’oka, Hama-chan, and Momokan; the rest of the second years on the team and their families; a handful of the first years.  And the Abe’s.  The very last one in the stack is from Takaya directly, the monkey design on the back making him smile.

 

**_Thanks for taking care of me this past year._ **

**_Please continue to look after me in the new year._ **

 

**_I love you._ **

 

His smile grows.  Going upstairs to retrieve his phone, fingers work quickly to bring up his boyfriend’s number.

 

“ _Hi, Ren,_ ” street noise in the background. " _I’m almost to your place; Hanai mailed earlier saying that Yūto is bringing his younger siblings along because his dad has work and his sister is out of town._ ”  They’re meeting everyone at the shrine in an hour.

 

Ren nods, humming his understanding as he realizes his boyfriend can’t see him.  “I got your card.  Thank you”

 

“ _Oh.  It’s only expected right?_ ”  Ren can hear him rub his nose, probably embarrassed.  " _Sorry; I didn’t get a chance to read yours before I left._ ”

 

Ren laughs, putting his cards on his desk before searching for the jacket he’d planned on wearing to the shrine.

 

“We wrote the same thing.”

 

“ _Really?_ ”

 

“Exactly the same,” grinning like he knows his boyfriend also is.

 

“ _I guess we’re pretty predictable then._ ”

 

“Guess so.”

 

“ _I meant it, though.  Thank you for looking after me this year; please look after me in this coming year,_ ” voice warm enough that Ren could almost swear he can feel the catcher’s breath against his ear.  “ _I love you._ ”

 

“Me too.  I love you too.”

 

“ _Happy New Year._ ”

 

“Happy New Year.”

 

“ _Ren?_ ”

 

“Yes?”

 

“ _I’m at your front door._ ”

 

“I’ll be right down.”

 

Grabbing his jacket, he hangs up before speeding down the stairs.  He welcomes his boyfriend in as the other boy toes off his shoes.  They pop into the living room where his parents are sitting together on the sofa, and his boyfriend gives them his regards.  Ren’s mother offering the sweets and snacks arranged on the low coffee table.

 

They have a half hour til the rest of the team is expecting them, but they still have to walk there.  Saying goodbye to his parents, they leave.

 

Hand in hand, they go to send off the year.

 

*

 

The room is quiet aside from their breathing – or at least, it should be, but Ren can't stop the hammering of his heartbeat  reverberating in his ears. The soft fabric of his bedspread is bunched around his feet as he tries to think what to do next, Takaya dark and blushing across from him.

 

They'd been kissing, long and sweet and with a lot of tongue, and Ren isn't sure that he'd been breathing. Dark hair between his fingers, hands curling around his waist; buttons being undone, his shirt being pulled off as Abe moaned his name between their mouths. His pants too tight and his undershirt all that was left covering his chest.

 

“D-Do you want to...?”

 

“I think it's pretty obvious, Ren.” Smirking despite the blush creeping up his neck. “But only if you're ready.”

 

“I am,” nodding to emphasize his point. “I want to try.”

 

“Do you uh, do you have lube?” Ears growing red, his boyfriend struggling to not bite his tongue as he struggles to undo his belt. Sighing a little in relief once he manages to pull his pants off. Ren goes to where he's kept the bottle of lubricant and condoms since the last (failed) time they had tried to have sex, pushing aside the socks covering them in a childish attempt to hide them.

 

Takaya's erection tents the front of his briefs, hard curve caught in the fabric. He's midway through pulling off his shirt, so Ren can't really see his face, but the sight of his boyfriend so hard has him pawing at his own straining cock. Biting back a whimper at the sensation, he busies himself with removing the rest of his clothes in an attempt to distract himself from getting too worked up too soon.

 

Leaning forward to grab the bottle of lube himself, Takaya averts his eyes as he gets to slicking up his fingers, warming up the wet, slippery lubricant before spreading his legs and reaching behind with both hands.

 

One hand pulling apart his cheeks, the other, slowing circling a finger around his rim.  Ren isn't sure his boyfriend is aware he's making such a sexy face, but he has to sit on his hands to avoid touching himself when the catcher slips the first finger in; a shuddery release of breath that goes straight to the pitcher's cock.

 

“D-does it feel weird?” Eyes firmly on the other's face; making sure to not stare at the flushed red tip of Takaya's cock, spasming a little as he slowly fingers himself wider. Scissoring as he readjusts his position, the smile he shoots to his boyfriend seems weak with the small whines he's biting back.

 

“Only at first. It – ahh – gets better. And uh, it gets easier to stretch with practice.” Eyes moving away again in embarrassment, implying exactly what Takaya couldn't say.  Instead, another finger slipping in, his other hand moving to pull at his erection, the four fingers sliding deeper into him with a wet sound – a mute cry at the feeling pulling his expression in an incredible way.

 

“I'm a-almost ready.” Hips jerking a little, Ren starts into moving. Fumbling with the condom he'd gotten, his hands seem too slippery with sweat to pull off the foil. He feels like an idiot, struggling with the small packet, and it's with a huge sigh of relief that he manages to free the condom itself. He worries that he probably should have practiced this so that he wouldn't completely embarrass himself with his fumbling attempts, but it's too late to worry about it – green eyes are watching him, and he can feel the prickle of anticipation across his skin. Can't help the jerk of his hips as he finally manages to roll the condom on properly, his hands being replaced with the still sticky fingers of his boyfriend. Groaning into his touch, it takes him by surprise when Takaya kisses him, tongue sliding against his own, lips soft and purposeful.

 

“Are you ready?”

 

“Are you?”

 

Another kiss in response; Takaya moving to lie back on the bed, hips elevated once they finally break apart.  It’s daunting, breaching this last step, but the anticipation has been building for half a year – even longer – and he can’t wait to finally become even closer.

 

Another deep breath, he steels himself as he lines up with the wet pucker his boyfriend has stretched.  His other hand is in Taka’s, fingers interlocked to keep them both grounded.  Pushing in, it seems impossible that he’d fit, but somehow he slowly breaches the tight space – the head of his cock feeling impossibly good as he keeps stock-still in his boyfriend.  Bottom lip caught in his teeth, it’s a minute before Takaya whispers to keep going; dual moans as Ren sinks a little deeper, rocking back and forth with his hips very slightly.  It feels like hours before he’s all the way inside, and Ren can’t help moaning, pulled from deep within him.  Green eyes are a glassy, and Ren had switched between squeezing the fingers in his and brushing the dark hair of his boyfriend in an effort to help him relax and adjust to the feeling.

 

One arm links behind his neck, pulling him down into a kiss – full and thorough and with tongues intertwining even as their breathing shallows.

 

“Does it hurt?”

 

Shaking his head, Ren’s heart unclenches in response – finally letting himself fully feel the pleasure of his boyfriend’s body around him.  Takaya’s voice deeper than he expected when he continues.  “The stretching helped, but it mostly feels full.”  Hips shifting a little and hand moving to his erection.  “You can start moving, Ren; just take it slow at first, I’m still getting used to it.”

 

Rolling his hips forward, they both gasp at the feeling, Takaya breaking into pants as Ren struggles to take deep breaths.  It’s a slow dance of their bodies meeting; his boyfriend moaning as he pushes deeper – deep enough that a strangled whine spills when Taka squeezes tighter around him.  Legs hooking around his hips, the catcher pushes him even deeper, moaning Ren’s name.

 

Ren leans above him, drawing them into another kiss as he adjusts his thrusting just a little faster.  Biting his lip as his boyfriend encourages him to go faster, Ren, enough that he pulls out farther and thrusts in again with more fervor.  The wet slick sound of lube squelching where they’re joined.  Hips hitting faster.  It’s not a violent or frenzied smack of their bodies, just a more measured tempo as they build the pleasure between them, but Ren already feels like flying apart.  Tight squeezing of Takaya’s insides pulling him deeper and closer to -

 

Takaya cums hard across his stomach, voice reverberating in the moan of Ren’s name as he does; body shaking as his legs fall limply from where they were hooked around his hips.  He had hit orgasm without touching himself, but Ren jerks him through the end of it; watching as the thick release paints the muscles of his boyfriend’s stomach.  He’s close himself, but the impossible tightness inside stops him from moving entirely.  Waiting until his boyfriend stops shaking and looks up to him again.

 

Another minute passes before they say anything, but all it takes us another roll of Taka’s hips as he moves on Ren’s cock before the pitcher is shaking with his own pleasure.  Strong hands move up his sides and the slight tickle just emphasizes the pleasure rushing through him.  Thrusting again at his boyfriend's encouragement – skin smacking in a satisfying way.

 

He cums unexpectedly when Taka squeezes the muscle of his ass with wandering hands.  Head hitting the other boy's shoulder as he whites out, jaw slack as he keens.  He'd be embarrassed if he had any self-awareness in this moment.  He's collapsed on top of Takaya before he realizes, the sticky mess smeared between them and soft lips peppering kisses along the side of his face.  Whispers of love filling the bubble they're relaxing in.

 

Shifting to pull out, removing the condom is almost as daunting as it was putting it on.  Smiling sheepishly as they both huff in laughter as he struggles to tie it off.  The room smells of sweat and sex, and Ren collapses beside his boyfriend on the bed after finally throwing the used condom away; pulling the box of tissues closer for clean up.

 

“Was it good?”

 

“Better; the best.”  moving to help wipe up the cooled cum off each if their stomachs.  “I sort of miss the feeling of you inside already.”  He's not blushing like Ren expected,  but his eyes are avoiding his own – gaze instead focused on the movement of the muscles in Ren's arm as it moves.

 

“We’ll probably both need a shower now, though.”

 

They sneak to the bathroom together, giggling in conspiracy even though they're the only ones in the house; crumpled shirts half-heartedly covering them on their way.  They hadn’t discussed it, but Takaya pulls Ren under the water too with a laugh and welcoming smile, and they kiss as the warm water runs over them.  Cold tiles pushed up against his back as tongues move.  Ren can feel the warmth of happy flush creeping up his chest even as Takaya moves to card his fingers through Ren’s fringe.

 

He hadn’t expected a blowjob in the shower, but he’s not complaining.

 

***

 

He has a problem.  A very serious one.  One that has actually prevented him from concentrating on any of his science notes for the past hour, even with half the team and the cheer squad surrounding him all going over exam prep.

 

Ren has been softly playing footsie with him across the table as they study, but resolutely not making eye contact.  The soft pink of blush just brushing the curve of his ears, and Takaya can’t help but want to jump to the other side and drag his boyfriend into his lap – running teeth along to try and taste that sweet blush.  Wanting to feel the other boy shiver in his arms.  If he had thought it was possible to become even more infatuated with his boyfriend after being together for over a year and a half, he’d never had expected the heady rush of adoration, pride and attraction he seems to be floating in constantly now.

 

Spring invitationals had been and gone, and they’d done well.  They managed to play their best against some of the top school teams in the country – including the team they had lost against in the third round of Koshien.  Ren had cried, happily, after that game.  They’d kissed thoroughly and completely in an abandoned corner of the change rooms afterward.  He hadn’t thought anyone would notice their absence (they weren’t gone that long, honestly), but by the way Tajima grinned lecherously, elbowing Ren in the ribs once they got to the bus meant that he still hadn’t heard the end of the teasing.

 

He was completely smitten.  He couldn’t even imagine not thinking about him constantly.

 

They have one more round of exams before the end of the second year, and he’s already submit his intent to join the science course.  Ren’s going into humanities, but Takaya’s almost certain he’ll be aiming for a sports scholarship anyway.  They’ve already had a couple scouts inquire at practices; Momokan just telling the teens not to stress and to instead focus on the team goal.  Summer seems closer than ever, and with this coming season being their last in high school, the pressure’s on.  Takaya knows they’ve all been working hard; sometimes he ends up dreaming about catching techniques, mumbling calls in a half-sleep state as Shun kicks him off the couch.  His father dispelling his gruff wisdom to “trust the team, Taka”, like he didn’t already.

 

Wandering big toe creeps to the edge of his shorts; sock fabric prodding where he’s ticklish.  The touch is enough to get him hot-blooded, but he wills himself to keep memorizing organic chemistry equations.  He’s got goals for this year – a lot of them – and doing well on the organic chem test is the just the first step for one of the most important.

 

He’ll have to go over it again with Suyama, the only other guy on the team also joining the science course.  Until then he decided to finally retaliate; throwing the smallest chunk of Tajima’s erasers to hit his boyfriend – catapulting it to hit him square in the forehead, a shocked squeak as it hits.  Eyes blinking in the sweetly loopy way that reminds Takaya of their first year.  Just grinning widely as Ren ducks his head in blush.

 

 _Ahhh_ , he’s just too distracting.

 

*

 

The third years are under strict instruction from Momokan to focus solely on their upcoming practice match, whilst the second and first years are put on fielding duty.  This summer will be the founding members’ last with Nishiura, but it doesn't mean that their coach will let the school's momentum flag.  With their inclusion in the Koshien tournament last year, the school had really started gaining interest in the team; allocating more funds to a coach who showed national-level results within two years.  They had also gained another dozen team members – this time almost all being the strongest players in their previous teams.

 

It's nostalgic remembering how the team started; 9 players, no pitcher, Tajima and Hanai’s reputation, and Sakaeguchi and his own experience in the senior leagues the only thing pulling them through those first few practice games.  Back before Ren had joined the group as a player.  Back before Takaya had had even the slightest awareness of his pitcher.  His battery partner.  His love.

 

Afternoons spent doing field maintenance.  The days the two would spend together after practice, trying to perfect Ren's control.  Having to clean the team's collection of baseballs with nothing but a scrub brush and dry cloth.

 

There are perks being upperclassmen of a sports team, he realizes.  It's been a long time since any of them have been relegated to equipment cleanup.

 

Doing his stretches, he bends down into a crouch.  Knees bent, he bounces a little to test the joint.  He hasn’t had any problems since his injury in the game against Bijou in the Summer Tournament of their first year, but he’s stayed aware of keeping himself in the best condition.

 

Nishihiro and Oki are talking through one of last year's games as they adjust their throwing.  They're all waiting on Momoe-san to arrive and assess their training.  Takaya isn't particularly looking forward to having to do the spin jumps to show off his balanced muscle training, but at least he actually can now.  The annoyance of that aside, he does highly respect the man; he'd kept his promise of keeping them all (especially Ren) safe and uninjured over the past two years, and it was under his tutelage that he could honestly say the battery has developed the most.

 

Ren's already going through his daily rope pulls; 300 each side now.  Smiling when he sees Takaya staring, he waves with his free hand – unbalanced for just a second before following through with the pull.  Arm muscles moving in such a familiar way, Takaya can almost feel the baseball hitting his mitt – a conditioned response, almost.

 

They’ll be seeded for the first time this year, so instead of the stressing over the first few rounds of the summer tournaments like they usually do, they’ll have more time to focus on practice and less time on scoping out the competition.  The prospects look good, and everyone is cautiously confident on becoming the Saitama representatives.  They did it once, they’ll do it again.  They’ve only been improving, and the last mental assessment they took has all the regulars over 185 points.  Being called the ace does wonders for Ren’s confidence too; and competition for the pitcher spot is the best motivation.

 

(Even if no one would ever think of replacing their number one).

 

*

 

Their college choice papers are due at the end of the week, but he already knows that his homeroom teacher is going to be annoyed at the lack of decision he’s put into his future university prospects.  He knows what he wants to do, but not where yet.

 

It all depends on Ren, after all.

 

*

 

They almost lose.  It’s a close game against ARC, but somehow they pull through in the final inning; Ren defending the one-run lead they have with perfect pitching.  Sweat is pouring from all of them, and the summer heat beats down at the height of the day.  His boyfriend collapses into his arms once their win is announced, and it takes the help of Bando to pull him down to the dugout.

 

Takaya takes the ride with the Mihashis that they offer, and he sits in the back with the other teen – fingers brushing back his sweat-matted fringe.  Their uniforms desperately need a wash.

 

They’re going back to Koshien.  They’re going to win this, together.

 

*

 

The stranger keeps taking notes on the side of the field, and it’s somewhat distracting having such sharp eyes following their pitching practice.  He’s getting self-conscious about not calling the pitches, but it’s not needed when they both know exactly which is wanted from the tilt of a glove.  Ren’s control is so perfect, even fatigued and at the end of a long match, his balls hit exactly where Takaya wants them.  The nine-square grid clear.

 

The mystery watcher whistles as another ball hits, and Takaya can see how his boyfriend jumps at the unexpected noise.  Standing from where he had been crouched, he heads to the side of the bullpen.  It’s obviously a scout, but he doesn’t want to stress Ren out.

 

“He’s got some great control.”

 

“The best from any pitcher I’ve ever known,” nodding as he crosses his arms.  Ren hasn’t come to join them, but Takaya smiles reassuringly, that everything’s alright.  Heart thumping harder when Ren smiles back.

 

“He’s also got a pretty big windup there.”  

 

“He’s very proud of it.”  He’s proud of it too, but that doesn’t really matter right now.  “Still has his control using it as well."

 

“Well, you’re pretty impressive yourself,” hand on his hip, appraising.  “It takes good leading to develop such a strong battery.”

 

“Me? Nah,” watching fondly as the other brunet balances one one leg – back straight and shoulders rolled back, a shadow of the core training he did way back in first year when he was improving his power behind his pitches.  His form is flawless.  “I’m just a normal guy who likes baseball.”

 

*

 

Ren has four universities scouting him already, even though they’ve only just gotten through the second round of Koshien.  They’re all in Kanto – two in Tokyo, one in Kanagawa and the final here in Saitama (the same place his mother works, actually).  There’s almost certainly going to be more as they continue to progress through the tournament, but it’s a little relieving that Ren is favoring a closer university rather than one across the country.  Takaya’s final decision will be completely based on his boyfriend’s choice (as stupid as everyone tells him he is for that), but it’d be easier if the commute isn’t too long.

 

There is also, of course, the option of long-distance.  They’d work out, he has no question of that; but he’d much rather have Ren close – to talk to, to touch, to find comfort in.  He knows he won’t be able to handle being alone all the time after years of closeness.

 

There are physiotherapy courses in every prefecture.  It’ll work itself out.

 

*

 

The quarter-finals pass and it’s thanks to Suyama that they pull off a miraculous triple play.  Takaya can hear the yells of the cheer squad.  Feels sorry for Hamada’s vocal chords as he leads half the student body of Nishiura in their supportive cheers.  It’s amazing so many of their peers, friends, and family managed to make it all the way to Hyogo, and it’s overwhelming how large this all is.

 

“That was amazing!!” Tajima jumping on their shortstop before anyone can react.

 

It is amazing.  All of this is so amazing.  This team, coach, battery, is so amazing.

 

He loves baseball.

 

(He loves Ren more.)

 

*

 

“I’ve decided to go to Kanagawa University; their baseball team is good, and they said I can probably join the starting team right away.”

 

“Kanagawa?  That’s a surprise,” blinking up from the last minute notes Shino’oka put together on their opponent for the semifinals.  The hotel room isn’t anything fancy, but the two get to share without risk of any of their nosier friends or any of the underclassmen. Not that they’re doing anything aside from sleeping; this fortnight is the culmination of their high school baseball careers, and the finals are so close.  Two more games, two more days, and the championship will be theirs.

 

He's confident they’ll win.

 

“I thought you’d want to go to your mother’s university.  It’s close enough you could commute from home, right?”

 

“Kanagawa University is a full scholarship, and -” a deep breath the only warning Takaya gets that his boyfriend is going to drop a bombshell.  “And Kanagawa has the best program for physiotherapy.  You can go to the best school, Taka.”

 

It hits hard – like Haruna’s rogue pitches in middle school – and Takaya’s certain that somehow he’ll be left with a bruise.

 

“You didn’t have to worry about that, Ren.”  Moving to catch his boyfriend in his arms.  “You should choose what’s best for you.”

 

“I did.”  Brown eyes burning bright; close, as they hug loosely.  “I chose what was best for the both of us.  You’re going to be the best physiotherapist, so you have to go to the best school you can too.”

 

Takaya feels like he’s choking.  This sort of thing is dangerous so close to a game; he doesn’t want to be distracted by the wonder that is Mihashi Ren when the country is watching.

 

“And this way, it’s only 20 minutes either way on the Keihintohoku Line if our apartment is in Kawasaki.”

 

He really does choke at that.

 

*

 

 _It shouldn’t be this easy_ he thinks, as the fly ball goes right to Ren. _It really shouldn’t be._

 

He catches it.  Of course he does.  It’s an easy catch and there’s no force behind the hit.  The ball just nicked the edge of the bat; popping it up as the batter swung hard, aiming for the fences.

 

They’ve been fighting tooth and nail to crawl into extra innings.  Defending each and every run they’ve made.  Tajima stealing more bases than anyone on the team can ever remember.  Hanai and Suyama hitting bases-loaded home runs in the fifth and seventh innings respectively.  The adrenaline high at the knowledge that they’re actually here,  That they’ve reached the pinnacle of high school baseball.  Together.

 

The crowd is silent in the tension.

 

The ball hitting the mitt is soft but decisive; pillowed in the leather, Ren looks just as disbelieving as Takaya feels, just staring at the white and red ball in his hand.

 

Sound explodes in cheering.  Mizutani has fallen to his knees in disbelief, Izumi just keeps switching between looking at the runner on first and Momokan; the rest of the team in the dugout spilling to the field.  Momokan lifting Shiga-sensei in a hug, spinning him with all of her upper body strength.

 

Ren’s crying.  Big tears streaming through the dirt and dust on his face, sweaty flush in the afternoon sun; stumbling off the mound as he heads towards home plate.

 

He’s ripping his face guard off, avoiding the stricken batter as he runs to his boyfriend.  Arms out, the meet in the middle, embracing.  Takaya sobbing just as hard as Ren, shaking in each other’s arms, and he kisses the pitcher hard.  There’ll probably be evidence somewhere he’ll have to worry about later, but it doesn’t matter when he’s sharing the heat of their mouths.;  The happiness overflowing into each other.  It’s not long before Izumi and Oki and Nishihiro and Hanai and Tajima and Sakaeguchi and everyone crowds into a big group hug, though, so their kissing may just get lost in the chaotic happiness of the scene.

 

Everyone’s crying.

 

Everyone’s still in disbelief.

 

Ren is the most beautifully happy he’s ever seen; proud and self-assured.  Eyes golden under the summer sun as unshed tears make them glisten.  Takaya’s still falling, even now, in this moment, irreparably in love with Ren.

 

His Ace.

 

Hands in his, skin warm, Takaya pulls him close again.

 

Their summer ends with a smile.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Another commission for the always-lovely, always-patient Tiffany. I'm a bit embarrassed to admit this took over a year to finish and finalize, but finally, it's done (I wanted to get it perfect)! When I started this commission, I had seen season 1 of the anime and regarded myself as a passive fan. Now, I've seen both seasons 3 times, read the entirety of the manga at least 4 times; waiting for new chapters like everyone else. 
> 
> I hope everyone enjoys this fic; it was very fun to do.
> 
> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/WritingGee)!  
> And you can find more about my commission information [here](http://compulsive-bibliotaph.tumblr.com/commissions).


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